Kristy's Happy Birth Day

I was 21, barely, when my first babe was born.

Lanny and I were quite excited to learn that I was “expecting” – ecstatic! We both wanted to start our family as soon as we could. In those days you didn’t go to the doctor until you were three months pregnant. They wouldn’t even see you if you weren’t that far along. So, meanwhile, waiting for those first three months to be up, I bought a paperback Pregnancy Book and studied all the signs and symptoms so I knew I was “expecting” before I went to the doctor and even had the due date figured. The first time I went to the doctor was my first ever exam. I had a lot to learn and experience in the next six months.

I enjoyed being pregnant (all 4 times!) and looked forward to having a babe of my own. The first time I felt the baby move, and knew for sure, was while I was at Woolco with Grandma. What a surprise! What a wonder! I don’t think Grandma was very comfortable talking about it in Woolco but it was so exciting, I had to mention it. Of course, had it been Granny instead of Grandma, I probably wouldn’t have said a word.

The baby was due December 7, 1971. I quit work two weeks early. Mama had told me, on a first baby, just add two weeks to the delivery date but I was hoping that the babe would arrive as scheduled. Lanny and I didn’t do any Christmas shopping because we thought the baby would arrive and then we could go shopping. I think we had one little squeeze toy bought for baby, receiving blankets, a few baby t-shirts and a couple of dozen cloth diapers. I had made some flannel kimonos and shirts and a crocheted blanket. We had splurged on a crib/stroller that converted to a high chair. It was a set, bought from a salesman, and was well made. On Friday, December 17, I had a surge of energy and totally cleaned the house and the bathroom. The hard Sioux City water had dripped a track down the old-fashioned pedestal sink. I scoured and scraped it clean. I remember that in the evening, I filled the claw foot tub with hot water and soaked to my heart’s content.

At one of my earlier doctor appointments, I had asked my male doctor if I would know when I was in labor. Sure, if it’s your first pregnancy, you’ll know, he said. Ha! On Saturday, I awoke in the predawn hours suffering with what I thought was "gas". I was bloated and miserable and took some Phillips Milk of Magnesia and went back to bed. Arising later, I had a backache, discovered other signs discussed in my books and told my young husband that we probably would be having a baby later today.I checked my previously packed suitcase. He watched football. I looked at the few baby things we had. He watched football. I tried to time my contractions. He watched football. I reread the section in my book on Labor and the one on Delivery and when the backache got so bad that I wasn't sure I could manage, I said let's go. He said, could you wait 'til half time? He watched football and I waited.

I didn't wait for him and half time but I had heard all the horror stories about how long first labors are and figured we had plenty of time. Also, I was some scared at what was to come so I found some intestinal fortitude and waited. Thought I’d rather be anxious at home than at the hospital! Finally, about 5:00 pm, we put the suitcase in the car and drove the half-mile to St. Lukes hospital.

The nurses checked me in, took me to the labor room and put me on a hard gurney. And left me there. We had had no Lamaze, no child birth classes, so we were docile parents-to-be and did what the nurses said. Even though I wanted to get up and walk, I lay on that gurney suffering "back labor" – the worst backache ever! We couldn't really time the abdominal contractions and the nurses were only interested in how I was dilating. Finally, when I had dilated enough for the nurses, Dr. Youngblade broke the water and it wasn’t long until I was taken to a very cold delivery room with metal lights hanging above. My impression now, looking back, was of a very institutional-like basement room. My arms were strapped down and my feet up in stirrups. They tried to give me some gas but I fought that and, as much as I wanted that baby, I wondered how on earth did I end up here in this cold room and how can I get out?

Very soon though, here was a beautiful babe lying on my chest! Kristy Noel was delivered at 7:42 p.m. without more trauma and shock then I could stand. However it was a shock, and a bit traumatic. I don’t know if I ever tried to explain the process to Lanny. I’m sure he would have thought I was exaggerating. He waited out in the hall, alone, or in the father’s waiting room I suppose, as fathers weren’t allowed in the delivery room and we didn’t call our folks until it was all over.

It was wonderful. A miracle, one I had waited for from my earliest memory. A baby. My baby.

I think, that "Daddy" got see to see this new babe as they were moving me from the delivery room to the recovery room but I am not sure. Later, in my own room, the new father got to come in to see and hold his new beautiful daughter. We examined every inch of this babe, marveled that she weighed 8 # 8 oz and was 22 inches long. In the baby book, I recorded her hair as being “long, dark”. It’s odd, that until I went to write this, I remembered all four babes as being born blonde headed but all the baby books except Johanna’s, says that three of you were born with “dark” hair.

Alone in my room, Lanny and I held the baby, counted toes and fingers, admired the fine, round head, the lips, ears, hair and lusty cry. It felt unreal, a dream, and yet there she was in our arms and hearts. I said she has her daddy’s eyes, she has my dimples in her back, she looks like . . . and her daddy said, as he did about all our children, she looks like “Kristy Noel”!

We were lucky to have a Polaroid camera and we took photos of Miss Kristy there in the hospital room. Something new that hospitals were doing was bringing the baby's bed into the room and allowing the new parents time to get to know the babe. Prior to this, the baby was kept in the nursery and only taken to Mom to eat and maybe the new father even had to leave the room. I felt very lucky that this hospital was progressive!

It was all "firsts" with this babe. I learned how to suckle her, to swaddle her and to hold her close so that I could smell my baby's fresh, sweet breath. I learned to burp, to clean a tiny belly button, to clean lint between toes and wipe bottoms. And I learned how big a mother’s heart can swell with love and tenderness and pride. Later, as I found all my babes did in the hours after birth, she lay on by chest and we looked into each other's eyes for the longest time, as though we had both been waiting to see what the other looked like, or as of a recognition . . . oh! So this is you! This is what you look like!

I stayed in the hospital three days after Kristy was born, as that was the rule then. Granmma Hof came to stay when it was time to go home and we dressed Kristy up in a pretty little dress and took her home to 1503 Rebecca Street, Sioux City, Iowa where, after Gramma went home, we played with our dolly to our hearts’ content.

Kristy Noel was and still is a bundle of joy!

Happy 35th, Kristy Noel.