My Mercie was getting "very pregnant" as the gestation progressed. It looked like the baby was going to be big. I felt proud of that. We knew he would be a boy as revealed by an ultrasound scan. Alas, in those days they still didn't take souvenir pictures of the pregnancy, so we have none. But it was obvious he was there, moving and hiccupping and growing big.
An anointing of the Holy Spirit
We continued attending the prayer meetings held at St. Isaac Jogues Church in Rapid City. On one memorable night, all prayer group members surrounded my Mercie and prayed over her. They also prayed over the baby. We all asked for an anointing of the Holy Spirit in utero for the baby. We prayed that the anointing be equal to the one St. John the Baptist received Mary's visitation (cfr. Luke 39-44). My Mercie and I were pleased at the blessing and the invocation of the Holy Spirit.
In me, the blessing planted a hope of a friendship between the baby and me. I began to envision this friendship as a close one, due to our mutual experience of the Spirit. Time would chase away the illusion as children are bound to develop a mind of their own on how to live their own lives. The Spirit, too, may have other plans, as He always do. Yet, what later became an unhealthy illusion seem to me workable and likely at that time. On that night, though the prayer of anointment added to my happiness and to promise of a loving future for my son.
Name Quest
We didn't have a name for our baby boy and we were running out of time. We juggled a great many possibilities, and he almost got named Jonathan David. Fortunately, we had come to meet Chief Master Sargeant Alessandro Aragón y Madrid, and his wife, Monie. He was born in Colorado where he had inherited his very royal surnames. Monie was Puerto Rican. They'd met in Ramey Air Force Base, near the town of Aguadilla, (ahwah-DEEH-jah), on the northwestern corner of Puerto Rico. Chief Aragón was an air traffic controller and had risen to the highest enlisted grade. He was a role model to me. Despite our age difference, we established a very warm friendship with them. They also "adopted us" in a sense.
Monie observed then that a birth so close to Christmas required a Christmassy name. She suggested Christian Emmanuel. It had a melodious ring to it. We went for it. Christianum esset nomen eius; his name would be Christian. Chris for short. The Aragón’s would become Chris’s baptismal godparents.
The Blessed Event Takes Place
As I've said, the 44th SMW looked to decrease our workload during the holidays. Also, my supervisors had placed me out of the rotation in view of the upcoming event. There had been some false labors which one can tell were false, as she smiled on the pictures I took of her. She wouldn't when the real thing came.
When the event came it'd been warm during the day. But at night - and he was born at night - the temperature dropped to below freezing. It was windy. The wind buffeted the trailer and the whined through the windowpanes as if a ghost were haunting us. I was watching reruns of the original Star Trek series. My Mercie's expression was odd. I timed the contractions at two minutes. "This is it!" I announced. We got into the car. Off we went.
As I drove, I remembered the I Love Lucy episode in which Lucy was to give birth. I congratulated myself of our planning. Little did I know my "baby's coming episode" was to be hair-raising and sad for me, before turning happy.
We arrived at Ellsworth AFB's hospital. They knew us already at the obstetric unit so the reception was cordial. They placed Mercie on a gurney, then we waited. And waited. The obstetrician made some cervical measurements, then deciding to break her water. That's when her birth pains started in earnest. In fact, she lost her shyness about speaking English to others. her sentences were short, loud, and in the imperative mode. Her grammar was emphatic and impecable. I felt an odd pride for her, because of the odd setting.
I want to push!"
"How much longer!
I held her hand, which she crushed at every contraction. In this very limited way, I also felt her pain.
The assistants told me to go and change into scrubs and ready myself for the operations room. I rushed into the men's changing room outside the sterile area and changed. Meanwhile, the obstetrician had concluded that the Chris' head was too big. Mercie's birth canal would not be able to let him pass. A caesarean section was in order. At that point, the obstetrician indicated he wouldn't allow me in the operating room.
As Mercie screamed, they wheeled here into the operating room. She managed to wave goodbye. The door closed. They left me alone and desolate. The memory of Papi telling me his last sight of Mamá Ana came to me. The situation was analogous, but different. I started crying without control. I went into the changing room and let it all go. When I calmed down, I noticed there was something different with the change room. It was clean and orderly. Then I realized I'd entered the women's changing room by accident. I rushed out, adding embarrassment to my sorrow. I entered the men's changing room, located my things, and got dressed again.
Chris was born at 6:15 AM the following morning. An obstetric specialist came out and told me everything was alright. Chris came out healthy with all his parts intact. Mercie was resting. I went home to catch some sleep. The night and the emotions have left me exhausted.
First Encounter
I returned to the hospital shortly after noon. Mercie was resting on her bed. A slight film of sweat covered her, giving her a special luster. She had Chris in her arms. Our son. My son. Five years before we'd been teenagers dating. Now we were adult parents. Our love, made flesh, was now squirming in my hands. Alive. During Christmastide. We brought to the world a new life, co-creators with our Lord. What else could we'd asked for?