Where's the Silver Lining?

Another update and memory - Rene

Robert is finally sleeping soundly, but I can't. Apparently he had another slight stroke last night, and that has left me unable to sleep, much as I want to do so. The doctor and nurse call these mild strokes TIAs. All I know is they are scarey things to have come visiting.

However, as I lay in bed, trying to sleep but failing, another memory came to mind, one that I'd like to share.

Back in the "old days," we didn't know before hand whether we would have a boy or a girl. The fact that we expected our first child excited and scared us. We talked of wanting a boy first: Robert, I think, did because that was expected of a man; I did because I had always wished I had a "big" brother.

My doctor put all his patients completely out with sodium penathol when they went into labor. Dumb me, I had no idea that he didn't know what he was doing or that I was allergic to sodium penathol, but that's another story. The gist of my being completely out meant I had no idea until hours later that Robert and I had a baby girl. When I finally regained consciousness, Robert sat beside my bed, holding my hand. He told me we had a beautiful, little girl.

I asked to see the baby, but so many babies had been born that the maternity floor was over crowded and the nurses didn't have time to bring her to me yet. Finally after Robert left to get dinner, six hours after giving birth, I held that tiny, little girl.

As I marveled over her perfect fingers, toes, nose, and bright eyes, the nurse told me, "You do know that your husband was disappointed, don't you?"

I looked at the nurse with shock written all over my face, I'm sure. Robert hadn't sounded disappointed. He told me over and over that Rene was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen. "Are you sure?" I asked. "He didn't sound disappointed to me."

She nodded her head. "Guess he had time to control his feelings by then. He certainly wasn't very happy when I first told him."

By the time Robert returned to the hospital, I had controlled my tears. He bent to kiss me before sitting in the chair beside the bed.

"I heard you were upset that we have a girl," I blurted.

"Who told you that?" he asked. But before I could answer, he continued. "I was upset, all right, but not because we had a little girl. The nurse wouldn't tell me if you were okay." He brushed my hair back from my face. "I didn't care if the baby was a boy or a girl. I just wanted to know that you were okay."

Later, when some of his friends teased him about not having a boy first, he grinned that quirky grin of his and said, "Why would I have a boy? I had the perfect model for a beautiful, little girl right in front of me."

Whew, see why I love that man?