Another Star is Born
In which Teófilo reminisces about the arrival of his second son into the world.
My Mercie's pregnancy progressed with no complications. When the big day came, things moved slow at first. Then the blessed event picked up the pace, and things moved fast.
On November 14, 1991, Mercie was admitted to Willford Hall Medical Center in Lackland AFB. I spent the night with her and after that, my memory gets a fuzzy. As I remember, I'd spent the night with Mercie. The next morning, I went home to Kelly AFB to rest when the expected C-section wasn't happening. Chris was staying with friends, so I went to bed. Within minutes I got a call asking me to return to Mercie's side, as the C-section was now imminent. I hurried back up praying that the base police had better things to do than stopping me for speeding.
Mercie told me that they had done an ultrasound on her and that she knew the baby's sex. (That was back in the time when conception determined a baby's sex. Unlike today, when a baby's sex is in an undetermined quantum state until determined at birth). "Would you like to know it?" she asked. "A boy!" I said. Surprised, she answered "How did you know? Did they tell you?" I replied, "No. I thought that if they were so sure the baby had to be a boy as opposed to a girl, where there might have been some doubt left."
Since one of the doctors had promised me admission to the operating room I changed into scrubs. You can't guess how chagrined I was when the lead doctor told me I couldn't be in the room. Once again, I stood out, wearing my scrubs, looking at a closed door.
The door didn't remain close for long, and the chief obstetrician called me in. The chief said he felt bound by his assistant's promise. I went in and I heard the chief chewing off the assistant. I felt bad for him, but I hid my disappointment. I went to Mercie's side, sure that I would never see these doctors again - which I didn't.
I stayed at the upper part of a cloth partition that divided my Mercie into two over the operating table. The anesthesiologist and I bantered as Mercie went into a twilight zone of sedation. I stayed away from her nether regions on purpose. I didn't want to become a fainting casualty in an OR.
I heard crying. The baby was born! "The plumbing is working!" the doctor said. Within minutes, I had him in my arms. Mercie asked to see the baby and I inclined my arms a bit for her to see. She only caught sight of his lips, and she cooed to him.
Then the staff allowed me to do something I was unable to do at Chris' birth. They asked me to carry the baby to the nursery for his first tests and such. Did I! I had my full attention upon him as I walked. I spoke to him, telling him how much we loved him, how excited we were of his arrival. I told him how welcomed he was. Tears coursed through my face as I repeated "I love you" a thousand times.
That's the most I remember about the day when my second born son, Jonathan Peter, arrived to this world.