An "Illness" and a Surprise

"Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden."

                       Phaedrus ( Roman Poet 15BC-50AD)


I've always heard that one is not supposed to survive one's child.  Unfortunately, it happens far too often, with the parents becoming unwilling members of that community that have experienced the same tragedy, with a sharing of pain, guilt, and anger.  While grief has a way of healing, the empty feeling never quite goes away, with thoughts ever present of what might have been.

Shortly after Emily's passing, Suzanne became quite ill, which we attributed to a mixture of grief and sadness.  Each morning, for her, presented renewed symptoms of malaise and fatigue, typically unlike herself, a vigorous and active young woman.  Had she developed a stress ulcer?  Suzanne decided to visit her physician, Dr. John LaFerla who she had been seeing since we moved to Rochester.  He was a very thoughtful and caring physician who was as concerned with the emotional aspects of health as well as the physical ones.  He left Rochester shortly after and settled in Maryland where he has run unsuccessfully for Congress twice as a Democrat.   I remember I was having a very busy day in the office, just trying to get through after a few weeks after Emily's death.  My nurse knocked on the exam room door knowing there was a doctor calling me.  I excused myself and picked up the phone.  "Sandy, this is John. I have Suzanne in the office here with me.  I'd like you to sit down."  My first thought was what bad news I would be hearing now, knowing Suzanne was ill.  One tends to think the worst after a tragic loss.  "Are you sitting down?", he asked.  You're about to become a father...Suzanne is pregnant."  Tears poured out of my eyes as they do now as I write this almost 40 years later.  I think it took Suzanne and me weeks before we could process all that was going on.  What happened?  What force was looking over us?

The next seven months were unreal for us.  The pregnancy was complicated by a deep vein thrombosis with self-administered injections of an anti-coagulant every day.  We persisted and faced every large and little bump along the way.  I became more engaged again in my work and actually learned many things from parents of newborns.  It was like a new lease on life.  Grieving and celebrating simultaneously is a strange feeling.  Our optimism was tempered by doubts and some fears.

Labor day, Sept. 3rd that year, was fast-approaching.  Ironically, it was Suzanne's due date.  The night before, the contractions began and the waters broke, followed by a quick ride to Strong Memorial Hospital.  I didn't speed and was extra careful, mindful of the special "package" I was transporting.  We had no idea of the infant's gender, not wanting to know beforehand.  The infant was hesitant to accommodate an easy delivery, being in the posterior position and requiring some version (turning around).  As the head crowned after many hours of hard labor, it ironically became Labor Day.  I had seen many births and had delivered infants myself, but this was different, being an anxious parent awaiting a child to be born.  Dr. LaFerla decided forceps would be needed and, sensing my anxiety, was ready to ask me to wait outside...but he knew how important this was to me.  Finally, this little cone-shaped blue head appeared and, after a few tense seconds, burst forth with a robust cry.  "It's a boy!!!"

Marc Harrison Mayer was brought into the world, having been named after his late maternal grandmother, Mary Margaret Hemenway.  He nursed immediately and then, I got to hold him in my arms.  A subsequent child after another child's death is known as a "vulnerable child" but Marc appeared anything but vulnerable.  He was vigorous and engaging, and still that at 39 today.  I won't dwell on the next few days of bliss and exhaustion.  I had come home alone from the hospital bearing one of his diapers for Rex to sniff.  Rex became his first best friend, the shepherd carefully guarding his new flock.  Homecoming was joyous to say the least.  At our request, we had few visitors, wanting to bond with our new family addition.

While still in the hospital, we decided to have a very non-traditional brit (ritual circumcision).  I had had strong feelings against a mohel performing it and Rabbi Judah Miller re-appeared and agreed to say all the prayers as the Christian, Dr. LaFerla did the procedure.  Judah said to John, "You do your thing and we'll do ours!"

I won't bore my reader by dwelling on the next few months of getting to know Marc, only to say, he was a joyful and curious child.  Those early years were sheer enjoyment from this little boy and we knew that as a "special child", we were careful not to "spoil" him but, instead, to nurture him.  He walked and talked early, and, eventually taught himself to read as we read to him avidly.  He traveled easily and loved experiencing new adventures.  We hiked everywhere with Marc in a backpack, even when we were on skis or climbing up a mountainside in the Adirondacks. He experienced his first Finger Lake dip in Keuka Lake or as he would say "Kuka Lake".  He would observe other children carefully before committing himself to jump in the fray and play.  He and I would send hours lining up his tootsie toy trucks and cars in an uninterrupted line from one end of the house to the other.  He loved to play, stack blocks and eat but, most of all, read with Suzanne and me.  He made sure everyone knew his name was spelled with a "c", the French way, and not a "k".  He would go out in the garden and, if a plant looked interesting, would ingest it.  The folks at the poison control phone center soon got to know us!  Marc was discovering his world which he continues to do even today.

Front Page of the Rochester newspaper!

I guiltily felt that, now, life was complete but was very careful about feeling smug after our roller coaster past year.  But, at the least, Suzanne and I felt very fortunate and lucky that balance had come into our lives.

I've included a few snapshots of Marc so you get an idea of the joy he brought us and continues to do so.