Friday, August 8, 2008

A Golden Boy



In February of 1987, my mother was pregnant with (according to her doctor) either "a great big boy or tiny twin girls." The baby/ies was due in the latter part of February. (Forgive me for having forgotten exact dates as I was only 9.5 years old at the time.) Dr. Kerr told Mom not to worry, in either case, she had already given birth to 3 good-sized babies, and he wasn't the least bit worried that she could deliver an even bigger baby or twins.

Mom started going in and out of labor and made a few trips to the hospital only for labour to peter out and quit. She was completely exhausted and ready for the ordeal to be over with when on or around the 4th of March, she finally went into labour for the last time and the doctor decided that she was really not going to get this baby out.

On the 5th of March, 1987, Daniel Lupton Herbert joined us in this world by way of C-section, weighing in at a whopping 11 lbs., 5 oz, there was no question why Mom was unsuccessful in her many VALIANT attempts at extricating my brother.

We other children were not allowed to see Mom and baby in the hospital, though I clearly recall creeping around the outside of the building and peering in through the window, to no avail, as I have always been "smallish."

The first time I saw my Golden Boy, they brought him out of the front door of the hospital and strapped him into the car seat next to me. His head was covered with light coppery golden curls, and he looked to be 3 months old, with rolls of pinchy baby fat curling out under his chin and and arms. It was a warm, sunny day and the light caught in his golden hair and charmed me to the core.

From that very first day, he was my little charge. I hauled him around everywhere I went, even when I broke my arm. He's all grown up now, serving in Iraq, but his hair is still golden, and I can still see him clearly as he was on the day we brought him home.

1 comment:

The Nomads said...

I remember them eventually letting us in to see him and he was screaming and red. Very scarry. LOL! But I do always tell the girls about how we had to walk around the outside of the hospital to wave to mom and say hi. Hospitals suck.