Al had ordered Lobster tails, and I had a steak, as I was leery about seafood back then, but, Al's " mystery illness" kicked in, so, he could not eat much, and offered me some Lobster. I tried it, and I was like YUMMY! I have been hooked ever since.
We went to our hotel room, and I shyly re-appeared out of the bathroom in my new " purple pleated negligee", only to discover that he was not feeling well, still, and the night was over. Thinking it was just wedding jitters, I fell asleep next to the man I married, a bit disappointed.
At first, we moved into my parents basement family room. We had a pull-out couch and TV, and of course I cooked for all in the kitchen upstairs. Al's "condition" worsened some days ,and some days, he was completely fine. I was working at Fairchild Camera and Instruments since high school, My job was to sort the semi conductors they produced, a very tedious job, indeed. One day, the called me into the office, and " suggested" I leave my position due to my pregnancy, as they " produced bomb parts, and I was endangering myself and the baby". OK, I quit.
We had a wedding party in my back yard 2 weeks after the wedding, and all of our friends and relatives came bearing gifts. My alcoholic Uncle Jimmy paid me a dollar every time he stole a kiss. He also disappeared in our neighborhood for a few hours, and we had to search to bring him back. God love him. That night Al and I opened all the gifts and envelopes, and slept with the money, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Al decided to apply for a position with the US Postal Service, and also was delivered a draft notice. Needless to say, we both freaked out over this. We applied for the exemption based on the pregnancy, and were denied that exemption. He had to report to the local base for physical examination shortly. He decided to apply for the Navy, rather than the Army, as he would have been given better status to avoid direct combat. Still, since we had not heard from the Navy test results, he had to report in for the Army physical. Hauled away in that bus, his " mystery illness" kicked in full force. By the time he arrived, he was not only sick to his stomach, the exam showed his blood pressure to be so above acceptable, they ordered in a special bus to get him off the base. No emergency treatment, but, sent home.
He continued to have this stomach issue frequently, in the following weeks, when we received a phone call from the Navy recruiters, letting him know he had very high grades on the exams, and would be offered an officer position in most any area he chose, and he quickly declined, as since this was during a war, and he was no longer subject to being drafted , he did not want to go to war, and I heartily agreed. Still, his illness haunted us. Then he was approved to work in the USPS, and he began a 22 year career as a Postman.
One day, my father approached my husband, in a very angry manner, about the illness, and how he was not suitable to be married to his daughter. He said the illness was affecting the entire household, and that he needed to leave immediately. Al, looked at me and said, " Valerie?" I told my father I would leave too, and we did. I said that this illness was no intentional, and you don't leave someone because they are ill. We moved into his parents basement, for the duration of my pregnancy.
His parents lived in Roosevelt, NY, the population of which was predominately black. Please bear in mind, I was not raised with any prejudice whatsoever, but, then Massapequa Park was predominately a white neighborhood, so, my exposure to blacks, was nearly non-existent . In my High School, I sincerely only recall one black student and his last name was White. This said, I am only relating my history and experiences, and this was 1970.
I took daily walks to Main Street in Roosevelt, where the stores and center of town was. Walking past the residents in town, I got a lot of stares, glares, and the normal cat calls young men make. My baby was all up front, from the rear, one would not realize how pregnant I was, from the front, oh yeah, I was huge. One day, in my 9th month of pregnancy, nearly 9 days past my due date, I heard this from behind my back, first a wolf whistle, to which when I turned around," Ohhhhhhh, never mind, no room for me!" I laughed that off, and continued my walk. I sat on a bench to rest, then I was approached by several young men, one of whom said as he got close to me, " Hey there big jugged white girl, I sure would like to stick something in you!" His comrades roared in laughter.
I got up and started to walk away, when I realized they were following me, and I broke into a run. I ran as fast as my legs could move, considering my condition. On arrival to Al's mother's house, and seeing how upset I looked, he demanded to know what had happened, and I breathlessly, and tearfully explained, and I also wanted to know what " big jugged" meant. He explained they were referring to my breasts, as he went to his car, took out the tire iron, to put in front seat, and I knew he was planning to go up there to whoop some body's ass. I pleaded with him not to go, as there were too many of them, and also I would not be able to point out who was the perpetrator, as I was afraid for him. He came back into the house.
Late that night, I could not sleep, I was wide awake and trying to just be busy. I was folding clothes at 2 am, when I felt some cramp in my back. Oddly, I realized that was probably a labor pain, and that this baby was on the way, but, I did not wake Al up, I continued folding clothes, and waited until the pains were about 5 minutes apart. The hospital was not far from where we lived. I then woke him up, and told him we needed to go, but, on the way out of the house, I stopped and had a glass of soda, as I was also aware I would get nothing to eat or drink, once there.
The plan was for me to have a natural delivery, with Al present throughout. However, I was in fierce pain, and the physician ordered a Demerol shot to ease some of that pain.That was when Al made his disappearance, due to mystery illness. All of my prenatal care was taken care of by the local Health Department clinic, so, I was assigned to a OB physician, Dr Moon Won Song at Nassau County Medical Center, who was doing his residency there. When I was asked about anesthesia, I told them I did not want any, yet, when it was decided I was ready, they broke my water, and wheeled me into a labor room. I was very ready after 8 hours of labor, still, as they put me on the labor table, I was told to curl up in a ball, and they inserted a needle into my back, which paralyzed me from the waist down. After all was done, I found out it is a procedure called the Saddle Block, and I believe they do not utilize this much in this day, as they frequently use the Epidural Anesthesia. With a Saddle Block, there is no such thing as pushing, as you cannot move from the pelvis, down. They used forceps to remove the baby, also a procedure not done unless emergency these days.
Well, a short time later, " we" delivered a 10 pound 1 ounce baby boy, who was given a 10 Apgar rating, which is the highest, and I was so proud, but, I was also still paralyzed , and was told I could not lift my head, or try to move for 12 hours, or live with painful headaches for the rest of my life. Um, decisions, decisions, and they bring me to my room and bring me a steak for lunch. UM?
Despite his initial evaluation of Perfect, the baby had to be moved to the NICU, for observation due to his breathing pattern being a bit to labored, which they attributed to his size, and their inability to suction out the mucous they live in in utero. He was fine a few hours labor, and showed his defiance a when I was able to get to see him, by peeing all over the nurses paperwork as I changed him for the first time. I swear he grinned!
I have searched my entire home for the newborn pictures of my first 2 children that have hung on my walls for years, and for the life of me, I cannot find them. The pictures I had and treasured from all time, were destroyed when we moved one time, in a terrible accident, that fortunately did not involve any people. I have very few mementos from our beginnings, and it breaks my heart to this day. Best I can do for now, is this photo, Brian 2 and Michael 1.
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| Brian Britt and Michael Adam |
We named our son Brian Britt. I started a tradition, of honoring our parents, by giving our children a middle name from one of them. My father was William Britt D. His middle name was his mother's maiden name... Some of my children have kept that tradition, and I think it is awesome.
The day after delivery, some man passed me in the hall, and wanted to know when the baby was due. He lived.
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