Friday, January 9, 2009

Twenty three years ago

On this date in 1986, Cindy and I drove up from Griffin to Piedmont Hospital in Atlanta for an examination and possible delivery of our first child. Cindy was great with child, as the verse says, and the delivery was about ten days past her final due date. Needless to say, Cindy was ready for the delivery of the child.

I remember that I had met with an older lady in Griffin about some legal matter around about 10:30 this morning. The lady was elderly and I had to drive to her house to meet with her. She lived in one of the older mill village houses in town.

After I completed my visit, I drove to our little house on South Sixth Street and picked up Cindy and our luggage and we drove up to the hospital to meet with Dr. Turrentine. After we checked in at the hospital, Cindy was led to a room and hooked up to the pitocin drip which we hoped would lead to a final delivery of this stubborn child.

For the rest of the afternoon, we sat in semi-darkness in the room, alone, waiting for the periodic visits by the obstetric nurses. Hour after hour passed. Very little progress. Finally, after the passing of the afternoon, some progress seemed to begin and the final turn toward the delivery arose.

Around nine that night, everything seemed to be progressing in earnest. At some point, Cindy grabbed my arm and asked me to find a nurse. That is actually a mild way of saying it. At any rate, I left the room and entered the common hallways to find no sign of any of the nurses. Apparently, that night was to be a busy night for babies at Piedmont Hospital. Later we found that twenty four babies had been delivered that night at Piedmont.

I was finally able to find a nurse, and Cindy was examined, stuck, poked and readied for the final act. Meanwhile, Dr. Turrentine and I sat down in front of the news on the television in the room and discussed the present state of Georgia Tech basketball. After watching the opening monologue from Johnny Carson, Cindy could wait no longer and she was wheeled into the bright, clinical glare of the operating room.

At this point, I became an appendage to the process, stroking Cindy's temples as she did the work. Finally, at 12:28 that morning, the little girl with blue eyes and a spattering of red hair came into this world. The nurse cleaned her up, wrapped her in blankets, weighed her and did what they do at these times and handed her to me.

She was so pretty. Her little ruddy face and blue slits. After the nurse took her back from me, I left the operating room and ran down the hall to the double doors behind which was the waiting room for relatives. I will say that I almost ran my mother and mother in law over, as they waited behind the wooden doors.

Its hard to believe that I can remember all of that twenty three years later. And the kid is still pretty cute. A little taller and more loquacious. And a lot of fun on an errand around town. Or on a hike in the mountains.

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