Little boy grown up

Today is our son’s birthday–his 27th birthday.  Where did the time go?  How did 27 years go by so fast?  I have been thinking about the day he was born as if it were yesterday.  He was born at an Army hospital.  My husband was active duty Navy then, but the Army base/hospital were the closest facility to where we lived.  All through my pregnancy with our son, I saw 4 doctors.  It was “hit or miss” on which one you would see per visit.  Three of the four were just fine and I was happy with them.  The 4th one, though, was a different story. Usually, military doctors were very good.  I never had any complaints about any of the doctors we saw since my very first experience with military doctors when we got married in 1981.  But, this particular doctor was old, grumpy, cross, mean and his bedside manner, in a word, “sucked.”  He had the worst bedside manner I have ever seen.  Did I mention he was old?  I’m not exactly sure how old he was, but, if I had to guess, I would say he had been in attendance when Moses was born.  With the military, when a woman goes into labor, whoever is on duty is the doctor who delivers your baby.   So, of course, when my water broke about 2:00 a.m. on Monday, May 19, 1986, and Bob took me to the hospital, it was the old man who was on duty.   He did he initial exam and made the decision that I should be admitted.  When he wanted to see how far dilated I was, he was so rough I cried out in pain as he checked.  Bob was in the room and I know he was shocked at the pain the doctor caused.  I probably crushed all the bones in Bob’s hand as I gripped hard while the doctor did his exam.  I wanted to cry.  Why did I get stuck with him as the doctor?  I prayed–no, I begged God that another doctor should come on duty and that the old man should be done with his shift.  I believe in miracles and I feel I received a miracle that day.  Just as I had prayed, the old man finished his exam then apparently he was done with his shift.  The next time I was due for someone to check to see how far dilated I was, I was thrilled to see a different doctor walk into the room.  I don’t remember her name, but she had blond hair, a kind and gentle manner and a soft voice.  She said she’d be delivering my baby and I looked to Heaven and thanked God. Relief swept through me.  I began to relax.  She said she needed to see how far dilated I was and Bob grabbed my hand, expecting me to grip hard to get through the pain of the exam.  She did the exam, the way normal doctors do it and I didn’t even flinch.   It was nice to have Bob holding my hand, but I know he was expecting me to squeeze it for the exam and I didn’t need to.   I was taking a long time to dilate past 5.  After a while another doctor walked in, Dr. Galland.   He was with the pretty blond doctor who had been checking on me.  He was the surgeon and was concerned since I should have dilated past 5 and wasn’t.   He discussed a C-section with me and I was all for it.  I asked if  I could be awake and if Bob could stay with me and he said yes as long as everything was okay.  All was fine and at 10:38 a.m. on Monday, May 19, 1986, our son was born.  And, now he is 27 years old!   Happy Birthday, Shawn!

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