A Few Days with the Grissoms Chapter 11
…This was a new experience for them—Sara had not scheduled previous deliveries. This one was planned to the minute. No hurrying into the hospital, no labor pains, no quick shower with Grissom pacing the floor, no panic to get children to the neighbors—a suitcase was packed, she had taken a long bath, and her children were happy and laughing at their Uncle Greg's plans for the day. The housekeeper had arrived early and the neighboring nuns even earlier. Greg had already ingratiated himself into the graces of these women who would feed, dress, and keep a semblance of order in her children for the next few days.
The staff at the hospital welcomed them as old friends. Admission paperwork was ready, a wheelchair took Sara to a bright room and, before she could change into a hospital gown, her doctor appeared.
"The day is finally here—are you ready?" The woman looked at Grissom as she asked her question. She knew Sara was prepared. He responded by holding up his own package of hospital clothing.
"I am. At this point, I'm an observer."
She went over the procedure; information already studied and signed by Sara. The physician ticked off a checklist. "Without complications and I expect none, we should be able to use the regional anesthesia. You'll be awake for everything—you will get to hold little William as soon as he's born."
Sara's first surprise was the number of people in the surgical room. In previous deliveries, there had been a couple of nurses, the doctor, Grissom in a quiet room. Today, a dozen people checked equipment, all dressed in the sterile green or blue scrubs. The anesthesiologist sat at her head; at least one other physician was in the room. Sara lost count of who was doing what. Grissom rolled his stool to her left so she could see him and within minutes, she was draped and shielded from whatever was going to happen to her abdomen. Monitors beeped with her heart rate and the baby's.
She heard the physician's soft words of direction and time seemed to stop as the room grew quiet except for the machines and the soft wisp of gloves and fabric moving. A mirror had been adjusted so Grissom could watch the surgery. Sara watched him.
"Dr. Grissom, step around here." Sara's doctor said. "You should see this up close."
Grissom found her hand and squeezed it before leaving his seat.
The doctor held a smooth round object in her hands. "This is the uterus. Looks good on the outside which means the placenta has not invaded the abdomen." The second physician made a quick incision and a small hand appeared, not much larger than the end of his thumb. Hands moved swiftly.
"Hold out your hands," a voice said. A small cloth was placed over his hands; the surgeon removed the baby from its enclosed sac and placed him in Grissom's hands. "Miracle isn't it," said the same voice.
Sara could see Grissom's eyes above his face mask. He had been excited at Bizzy's birth. He had been amazed and excited when the twins were born. Today, he stood in awe and she knew all the complications of the past weeks had been worth this moment. He turned to her and she saw his blue eyes brimming with tears.
"Is he okay?" She asked.
She saw his head move. "Yes. Perfect. He's beautiful." His voice choked and she heard a soft chuckle. "He's a Grissom." In a few minutes, the baby was put across her chest. Whatever else was done to her body was completed without her awareness of the process. The plump pink baby was perfect, all tiny fingers and toes in the right places, miniature lips that came together making a gurgling sucking sound—nearly identical to those pressed to Sara's hair.
Some nonsense words came out of her mouth. The baby looked at her, breathing a sigh of what sounded like relief, and closed his eyes again without making a single cry. Grissom's finger worked into the small hand.
"This was the first part of him I saw," he said. "Almost waving."
"He knows his dad already." Sara cradled the baby's head. "And look, his hair looks like Annie's and Ava's—I believe I have my little Gilbert." She smiled.
"William," he said. "Not Gilbert."
The baby wiggled, making a wet gurgling sound, and instinctively, she attempted to wrap both arms around him forgetting her right arm was attached to a line. Grissom's hand folded around the baby and the two inspected delicate fingers and tiny pea sized toes and velvet like wrinkles just as thousands of parents do.
Sara's broad smile was one of happiness, relief, and exhaustion. "He is a Grissom." The father of this baby kissed her. "William Gilbert Grissom."
Grissom grunted. Sara knew she heard a pleased, baby-size sound echoing from the baby.
A/N: One more chapter--thanks for reading and your comments!
