sentimental fool (m)

November 18th.  Sam's birthday.  Twenty-three years old.

The night of 11/18/89 still burns in my brain because of the trauma.  After a model pregnancy, I had what they call a "bloody show" and was rushed to the hospital.  I was ten days overdue. There, it was determined that the baby was in distress with virtually no amniotic fluid to support him.  We entered the operating room in the middle of a shift change.  The team that wheeled me into the room handed me off to the next team.

The delivery was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.  I still remember the spinal.  Like a giant bee sting.

The baby was taken out of me and the doctors worked frantically on him.  No one talked to me or my husband.  I had to ask what I had.  "What is it?" I asked.

Boy, they said and went back to work on him.  They asked if we had a name.  "Samuel," I said.  One doctor said banker.  The other said lawyer.

The door slams open and two doctors identify themselves to us  "Hello. We are from Pediatrics".  What they didn't tell us was they were from Neonatal Intensive Care.

They were there to get the baby and bring him to ICU.  I had to ask to see him.  I remember his face, all scrunched up and his coloring was off.  I blew a kiss to my new baby.

The family was out in full force.  My father was there every day with his Polaroid camera snapping away.  The nurse observing him smiled and asked if Samuel were his first grandchild.  My father looked at her as if to say what a stupid question and responded, "No--it's my first camera."  Which it was.

Sam at his christening

Sam grows up to be a happy, healthy, well-adjusted boy.  Warm personality, athletic, intelligent, and a good friend to his many, many friends.  He is a joy.

Sam at 3 1/2

Each year, we celebrate Sam's birthday, grateful that things ended up so well given the rough start.  I still see the image of the scrunchy face when I think of him.  Other images of him hooked up to the respirator are starting to fade, replaced by happier ones.

At his HS graduation party, June 2008

So, yesterday, I was a little nostalgic as this was the first time I wasn't with my son for his birthday.  I hung up the family birthday banner in the kitchen, took a picture of it and texted it to Sam.

We talked mid-afternoon and it was nice.

Later that night, Harrison comes in from work and can tell I'm a little sad.  He asks why and I say, "it doesn't feel right not being with Sam on his birthday."  Harrison smiles a sneaky smile and tells me not to be sad. Then the little snitch tells me to check my AMEX bill this month.

"Why?" I ask.

Apparently, Sam celebrated in style in NYC buying a round of shots for everyone.

Sam in his NYC apartment, this summer