In retrospect

Lucy's birth

The day Lucy was born is firmly imprinted in my mind, mostly because it was the first time I was truly terrified, even if only for a few minutes.

I had been playing with Carrie, who lived across the street and was only a few months older than I. We were going to have a tea party, so I ran home to get my dolls. Yes, another tea party. We were five and we both liked them, so no comments from the peanut gallery. Besides, there were cupcakes to go along with the tea. Real cupcakes, not pretend like the tea. I nearly ran into the door in my rush, because it didn’t open like it was supposed to. Puzzled, I tried again, realizing after a few unsuccessful attempts that it was locked. Still confused, because we never locked the door when one of us was home, I ran around to the back door and tried that to no avail. By standing on my tiptoes, I could just see through the glass pane of the door. “Mama?” I called, trying to see her through the glass, because I figured that both doors being locked was just an accident. Seeing nothing, I called for her again, starting to panic. Abandoning the window, I screamed for her a third time, now terrified and yanking on the doorknob with every bit of strength my little body possessed. Running back to the front of the house, tears leaving clean streaks on my dirty face, I was convinced that something terrible had happened, that maybe I had been abandoned. Completely illogical, I know. Refer to earlier statement about being five.

As I rounded the corner, I saw a car pulling into our driveway, and driving it was my Aunt Joan. As she stepped out of the car, I rushed to her and clung to her legs, sobbing out my pitiful story. Untangling my little hands from her skirt, she picked me up and reassured me. “It’s okay sweetie. Your Mama had to hurry to the hospital to have your sister. She called me to stay with you and she thought I would be here before you came home from across the street. She didn’t mean to lock you out.” Sniffling a little but no longer scared, I nodded and wrapped my arms around her neck. Still carrying me, she walked across the street, told the neighbor the situation, and then took me back home. I had a good Aunt.

When Daddy came home, looking elated and tired, I was happily sitting at the table with a coloring book while Aunt Joan was doing dishes. Jack and Thomas were staying the night at their friend Daniel’s house. As soon as I saw him, I threw my crayons down and ran to him with a squeal, throwing myself into his open arms. “What happened, Daddy? Did Mama have the baby? What does it look like? When are they going to be home?” I was in a happy-about-baby stage, if you couldn’t tell.

He gave me a bear hug then set me aside, wearily sitting down on a chair next to the table. Aunt Joan brought him a plate of food, which he accepted with thanks before answering my rapid-fire questions. “Yes, Mama had the baby. Her name is Lucy, she’s small, and has dark hair just like you. They have to stay at the hospital for a few days, but I can take you to see them tomorrow, ok?” I stood next to him and nodded solemnly before asking in all innocence, “Why are you so tired Daddy? I heard Mama say to Mrs. Cunningham that she had to do all the work.” I was too young to understand what labor entailed, but later in life I was pretty much in agreement with her. Aunt Joan shushed me. “Let your daddy eat, Shannon.” My daddy shook his head and said, “It’s ok Joan.” He leaned forward until he was level with me. “Mommy did do a lot of work sweetie. But I was there to help, so I’m tired too.” “How did you help daddy?” He laughed and tousled my hair. “I’ll tell you later.” After that, Aunt Joan got me up to bed, and even though I protested that I wasn’t sleepy, I didn’t stay awake long.

Daddy never did tell me how he helped. I forgot that he was supposed to tell me, and I figured it out on my own later. Get your minds out of the gutter men. I was referring to his support role during the labor.

I didn’t get to go to the hospital the next day. With impeccable timing, as illnesses usually have, I got a mild ache of the flu. It was nothing serious, but I wasn’t allowed to see any of my friends, much less visit my recovering mother and new sister. I griped about it, but between Daddy and Aunt Joan (who, for having no kids, was remarkably immune to my charms), I got nowhere. I was ordered to stay in bed, and any attempt to do otherwise for anything other than the bathroom was quickly put to an end. I put up my best fight, but ended up spending the next two days in bed. I did get to watch a lot of T.V. though, so it wasn’t all bad.

By the time I was healthy, Mom and Lucy were coming home. That entire day I was full of nervous energy. I’m surprised Aunt Joan wasn’t going slightly nutty from trying to take care of me. She had it lucky though; Daddy had arranged for Jack and Thomas to stay with Daniel until the next night. As the day wore on and I knew that Daddy would be off from work, I started spending more time at the windows, looking far down the street for any sign of our car. I was finally coaxed away for dinner by Aunt Joan. The rumblings in my stomach wouldn’t allow otherwise. As I ate, I fidgeted nervously. I heard the car pulling into the driveway and my dinner was forgotten. Aunt Joan barely caught me in time to halt my customary rush to the door. “You have to be careful when they come in, kiddo.” Careful was not a word I liked, along with tidy and graceful. I had no time for things like that.

So when they came through the door, I was properly restrained in my greeting. Mama walked in, carrying what looked to me like a bunched up blanket. I wanted to bear-hug Mama but I didn’t. I think she knew I wanted to though. I was like that. She gave Lucy to Daddy and carefully leaned over to hug me. “Hey sweetie. Do you want to see your new sister?” I nodded solemnly. Daddy knelt down and loosened the blanket, revealing Lucy’s brand-new face to me. Staring down at her yellow-tinged red and wrinkly face, I bluntly proclaimed, “My dolls are cuter.” To me, Lucy was ugly when she was new. Her dark hair was short, barely visible in some areas, and her eyes were squinty. Not to mention, her forehead was big. Compared to my perfectly proportioned, pale skinned dolls with their perfect hair and big eyes, she wasn’t adorable at all.