Let’s go back to the tale of Danny and Pam…
On January 17, 1978, Danny and I drove in to Dr. Marketto’s office for my regular ob appointment. Up until this point I my pregnancy had been remarkably uneventful. Some swelling around the ankles but nothing to write home about. We expected another routine appointment.
Imagine our surprise when Dr. Marketto told us that we were to go directly to the hospital. I protested a little and he told us that we were having a baby tomorrow. And that if we didn’t go to the hospital he could loose me, my baby, or both. We drove to the hospital.
Once there, I was placed in a private room with curtains drawn. No lights. No television. No telephone calls. No stimulation of any kind. I had pre-eclampsia and my blood pressure had escalated to dangerous levels. When Danny went home that night, all I could do was lie in that hospital bed and cry and pray for my baby.
The next day after attempts to induce labor failed, I was wheeled into the operating room for a caesarean. After all the uncertainty, after all pain, after all the prayers, guess what we got. Susan Emily. After January 18, 1978 our lives were never the same.