She knew the baby was coming, but it was too early. How much early she wasn't sure. This had been an unpleasant pregnancy. Two of her older children were married already and a grandchild was on the way. She had not been well for a year of so and the older children were not thrilled that she was expecting. She had nine children. Wasn't that enough?
She sent Daddy for the doctor. She hoped he hurried. She instructed the older girls in how to prepare for a birth and they were busy with anxious excitement. She sent the younger children to play with cousins on this cold February Sunday.
The baby was born without incident, but the doctor looked worried and she didn't hear a new born cry. "Is the baby ok?" she asked.
"I need to take care of you first." the doctor answered.
"No, take care of the baby first." she breathed. She could not bury another baby, not now.
The doctor worked feverishly with the baby, mainly because Mary needed immediate attention. He was about to lose two patients. The baby, limp, blue, and with no response was as good as dead. He dipped the baby in warm , then cold water. There was a small gasp, a few faint heart beats, then nothing. The doctor repeated the process again but still the baby's heart did not respond.
"Don't give up." came a desperate whisper from the bed.
" I will try one more thing, a shot in her heart. If that doesn't work, we've lost her." the doctor answered.
With an injection into the tiny heart, it began to beat. Gradually the tiny body turned pink. The doctor wrapped her in a warm blanket and handed her to an older sister. He then turned to the mother and once again worked his magic. Soon Mary inched up in bed and reached for the tiniest baby she'd ever had, another little girl.
The doctor wrote in his little book, "Baby girl, February 13, 1938.
She sent Daddy for the doctor. She hoped he hurried. She instructed the older girls in how to prepare for a birth and they were busy with anxious excitement. She sent the younger children to play with cousins on this cold February Sunday.
The baby was born without incident, but the doctor looked worried and she didn't hear a new born cry. "Is the baby ok?" she asked.
"I need to take care of you first." the doctor answered.
"No, take care of the baby first." she breathed. She could not bury another baby, not now.
The doctor worked feverishly with the baby, mainly because Mary needed immediate attention. He was about to lose two patients. The baby, limp, blue, and with no response was as good as dead. He dipped the baby in warm , then cold water. There was a small gasp, a few faint heart beats, then nothing. The doctor repeated the process again but still the baby's heart did not respond.
"Don't give up." came a desperate whisper from the bed.
" I will try one more thing, a shot in her heart. If that doesn't work, we've lost her." the doctor answered.
With an injection into the tiny heart, it began to beat. Gradually the tiny body turned pink. The doctor wrapped her in a warm blanket and handed her to an older sister. He then turned to the mother and once again worked his magic. Soon Mary inched up in bed and reached for the tiniest baby she'd ever had, another little girl.
The doctor wrote in his little book, "Baby girl, February 13, 1938.
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