February 9, 1934
“Welcome back to Q107.5! Before we get back to today’s top hits, we have Jay with the weather. Take it away.”
“Thanks Johnny. We seem to have hit a record low temperature of -7°F. Write this on your calendars people! February 9, 1934…”
“How ya doin’?” said my husband quietly. He peered over at me, driving with one hand, reaching for my hand with the other.
“Charles, keep your eyes on the road!” I scolded him, “You don’t want an accident with the baby in the backseat!” I looked over my shoulder at our beautiful baby boy, sound asleep. He has his father’s blond hair, and my mother’s honey brown eyes. We named him John, after Charles’s favorite actor, John Wayne. He has only been our child for about an hour since I was cleared from the hospital, but the love flowing through every pore of my body towards him is overwhelming, suggesting the love of an eternity.
I turn back around and face the front, my head leaned against the window, eyelids drooping. It is 11:00 p.m., but the streets are surprisingly bare for New York City, reminding me of my teenage years down in Tennessee.
* * *
Ahh. Home sweet home. Charles opened the humble oak doors, and a warm gust of air swooped over us. He helped me carry my bags inside, limping slightly under the weight, while I held John.
“Thanks, Char,” I said, smiling at his old nickname.
“Sure thing, Carrie,” he winked, smiling at mine.
I laughed at our memories, so childish yet wonderful.
“Should I feed John before we go to bed? I don’t want him to wake up hungry or something tonight.”
“He will be fine. Look at him, he’s dead asleep, he wouldn’t wake up if an automobile came crashing through that wall right there,” he said, pointing at the living room wall.
“I guess so…”
“You’ve had a rough night, get some sleep. You deserve and need some rest.”
“Okay, thanks Charles. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
* * *
Beep! Beep! Beep!
“Aaargh!”
It is 8:00 a.m. I forgot to turn my alarm off. Again. My hands search aimlessly across the bedside table for the alarm; aggravated, I hit the off button.
I look over at Charles, looking so peaceful and relaxed, completely undisturbed by the alarm, and I remember – John!
I go to his nursery and find him sound asleep, just as I left him the night before. Exactly how I left him. Shouldn’t he have moved in his sleep, even just if it was just a little bit? He hasn’t cried at all either. Don’t most babies cry? He hasn’t woken up since last night. Dr. Reed said he should wake up every six hours or so. It’s been nine.
I pick him up from his crib, panicking at the sight of his small, unmoving body. I can hear him breathing; his breath is shallow, but undoubtedly there. That’s good. Quickly, I go back to the bedroom.
“Charles,” I whispered urgently, “Charles, wake up!”“Mmm, Carrie? What’s wrong?” he said groggily.
“I think something’s wrong with John. He hasn’t woken up at all. Shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”
“Caroline, he’s fine,” he assured me, “He’s a baby – babies sleep a lot. It’s okay, he’ll wake up when he wants to wake up.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right..”
“Sweetie, haven’t you learned anything over the past four years? I’m always right.” He teased.
Still uneasy but less tense by his jokes, I lay John down on the bed between me and Charles. He leaned over John, looking at his son like the proudest father in the world.
“Hey there baby. It’s your daddy. And there’s your mama. Now I know you can’t understand me but you listen here, I will always love you and do everything I can to make your life as good as it can be. That’s a promise. And don’t you every forget that.”
He looked up at me, and his eyes widened, bewildered.
“What’s wrong?!”
“That was beautiful,” I replied, tears of joy streaming down my face. My two favorite boys are here with me, a part of this perfect moment.
* * *
“Something smells good!” said Charles, walking through the front door.“Just a hotdog and potato chips for lunch today,” I said curtly, “Sorry.”
“Uhh.. it’s alright?”
“Okay.”
“Is there something wrong..?”
“Charles, John still hasn’t woken up. It’s noon!”
“I’m telling you, the baby is fine.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted, “but I have to go back to work now – I’ll try to come home a little early.”
* * *
It’s 3:00 p.m. Okay, that’s enough. I don’t care what Charles says, I’m taking him to the hospital. I should call him though.Ring, ring, ring!
“Edward Jones, this is Charles speaking, how may I help you?”
“Charles. It’s me. I’m taking John to the hospital. I think you should come.”
* * *
John is in intensive care, and all I can do is sit here and wait! Where is Charles? He should be here by now! Gahh, how is John doing?“Caroline! Where’s John? How is he?”
“He’s in intensive care, Charles. I told you something was wrong. I just hope he’s okay.”
When he didn’t respond, I look over at him. He had gone to the chairs lined against the wall and sat down. I tried to read his expression – nothing.
“Charles..? Are you–”
The door opened and Dr. Reed came out with a resigned look on his face.
“I’m afraid we have some bad news. Caroline, you might want to sit down as well.”
I did as I was told.
He slowly exhaled, “He didn’t make it. I’m so sorry. He had a severe case of jaundice. If he had been brought to us sooner, we might have been able to save him, but.. I’m sorry. We tried everything. There was nothing else we could do.”
Dumbstruck, we simply stared back at the doctor.
“Well I will leave you two alone, you can see John if you would like. If there is anything we can do for you, let us know.” And Dr. Reed disappeared through the doors.
We sat in silence for a moment, when I looked up at him. I could read his expression now – an expression that clearly said, “I should have listened.”
I stood up, took him in my arms, and we mourned for our lost son.
* * *
ONE YEAR LATER – February 9, 1935
“Charles! Can you come help me? I dropped the blanket and if I go down I’m not coming back up!”He came through the door, and handed me the dropped blanket.
“Thanks. I forgot how hard it is to have a stomach this big around!” I laughed. It feels good to laugh. This past year has been hard, and a year ago from today, John was born. I still cry myself to sleep often for our loss.
“Well, it’ll be over soon. She’s ready to get out of there!” he said, touching my stomach.
Ouch! What was that? Probably just the baby kicking. Ouch! Nope, I don’t think that’s it.
Charles was there in an instant keeping me steady, sensing that something was wrong.
“The baby’s coming!”
--Marie
February 9, 1934
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