My First Born

I came close to miscarrying Steve when I was about four months along and had to be hospitalized for a week or more to keep from aborting. I was bedridden with my legs elevated the complete time during my hospital stay. I and all the worrisome family members and friends were relieved to learn that the hospital stay was successful, and the doctor who delivered me at home on Gleason Street eighteen years earlier delivered a healthy baby boy at the Beverly Hospital in Montebello.

I wanted to nurse him and set about to do just that. After he was home, however, is when we were to learn something different about this newborn. He would not nurse; I had to use a breast pump, and it was so painful. It was such a challenge that after a month or so of trying, and it just wasn’t working, the doctor advised that I stop nursing, which I did gladly! That soon stopped the swelling and the “ouch.”

When it came time to feed him solids, that was another fiasco. It took not only me, but my sisters, Phyllis and Donna, plus sister-in-law, Virginia, and grandma to play “airplane games” with him to get even a spoonful of food down him. We always got the “raspberries” from him. Yes, he spit most of it out at us. We soon learned that you never fed Steve without having a napkin handy (more like a dish towel)!

Now I’m taking him to the doctor because he isn’t eating. The doctor/s (I took him to several thinking one of them could come up with a remedy). They all said, “If he were hungry, he would eat.” To me and my family of healthy eaters this wasn’t normal, so I would pursue another doctor and continued to get the same answer. I guess I finally gave in and trusted the doctors’ words.

The next thing the little guy is doing is holding his breath. I don’t mean just a mere bout of holding his breath for a second or two; I mean holding his breath until he was limp and blue in the face. It scared us all to death. It seemed like this only happened when we were visiting at granddad’s and grandma’s and my siblings who still lived at home. His dad and I started by taking him to the sink and sprinkling water in his face. When that didn’t work, we started literally to passing him from one family member to another in the hope that one of us could make him breathe. When that didn’t work, we all rushed outside, and, would you believe, we literally tossed him up in the air. I recall to this day the time that dad tossed him in the air and said, “Well, this time he’s gone.” OMG! Panic set in big time, but he finally took a breath and everyone there at the time breathed a sigh of relief.

Can you believe my surprise and the audacity of this kid when in his teenage years he told me that he did all of that on purpose just to get attention! He didn’t have to do anything for attention. He had all of us in the palms of his hands. Simply, and now looking back on the situation, he was just being a spoiled brat. I find it hard to believe that my first born just turned sixty-three.

He received a photography scholarship when he graduated from high school. Soon after that he was enrolled in university and received his Bachelor of Arts Degree. Furthering his education, he enrolled in law school and received his Juris Doctor Degree.

Steve worked long and hard hours to pay for his education. As a matter of fact, he and his wife paid off student loans well into several years of their marriage.

Steve has been married for thirty-six years to his college sweetheart and is in good health. They are proud parents of two sons, both of whom are very successful, and both also graduated from their dad’s college Alma Mater. Their oldest son is married with a child.

He has been employed by a major studio for the past thirty-five years and climbed the ladder of success to attain the position of Senior Vice President.

I want you to know that Steve now enjoys all his meals, be it his wife’s gourmet cooking or their frequent fine dining.

And, I’m sure that you know “If I could sit across the porch from God, I would thank Him over and over again” for seeing me through those difficult times and for bringing me a healthy first born.

Sharon Benson Smith is a member of the writing class offered through the Cerritos College Adult Education Program. It is held off-campus at the Norwalk Senior Center.