September, 1977
by Alvera Bruwer
Well the day
had arrived. I had been for the foetal x-ray which had said 36 weeks and no
bone abnormalities.
My doctor
had decided to induce as he said i would have a much shorter labour than with
my other two children which were both quite long.
My youngest
child, a boy, was nearly seven and the eldest, a daughter, nearly ten. We had
not planned on having anymore but there it was, I was pregnant after all this
time. In the beginning I was not at all thrilled but my husband and children
could not wait. My daughter wanted a sister, and my son a brother.
I did not
enjoy my pregnancy at all. I had low blood pressure and had the most terrible
head-aches. I also had a few dizzy spells at the most awkward moments. Once in
a classy restaurant, and once in the car while I was driving which gave me
quite a fright. The morning sickness which I had with the other two children,
and was dreading, just did not appear at all.
After seeing
the doctor at eleven thirty my husband and I went for a cup of coffee, and
walking along, I got a pain in my back. Not really worrying, I thought it was
most probably just because my doctor had given me an internal examination to
see how low my baby’s head was, and went merrily on my way.
I had to be
in the hospital at six o’clock that evening and decided to have my hair done
before going in. My husband decided to stay with me this time as he had not
done so with the other two. So i decided I must really try and look good seeing
he was going to be there at the birth.
The whole
day I had these little niggling twitches in my back and in my sides but nothing
really bad. I was dreading the induction as I had never had one before and had
heard the most terrible stories about it.
As we
entered the nursing home I got the most terrible feeling – excitement and fear
of that which was to come. After I had changed into the white gown the sister
came in to examine me. Well I was 3 fingers dilated and hoping that I would not
have to have the drip as planned.
My husband
decided to go home and have his supper and check on the children. By the time
he got back I was sure I was having contractions. And the doctor had not even
arrived yet. My husband said it was all in the mind, me dreading the induction
and being in the labour ward.
Well my
doctor arrived at 20:30 and I was getting 10 minute pains. He decided to put me
on the drip after all as it would go quicker.
He broke my
water - about a cup full - and we were on our way. The pains were not that bad
and by walking around, drip and all, it eased the contractions.
My doctor
had gone for his supper and when he got back I was in strong labour. Having my
husband with me made such a difference. He rubbed my back and wiped my face
(and hairdo) and it was super just having him there.
All of a
sudden I got the most terrible urge to bear down. My husband shot out of the
delivery room and called the doctor. Shame, he must’ve thought that he’d have
to deliver the baby himself!
I was more
worried about my husband as I know he can’t take anything to do with sickness
or hospitals. Well he stood at the bottom of the bed and watched.
About 6
pushes and then it was all over. I heard my husband say it’s a boy and I said
well it’s Gavin John, as my husband liked the name Gavin and my son liked the
name John. I could at that moment only feel such a relief and didn’t mind what
it was.
Once the
cord was cut the sister wrapped him in a sterile sheet and took him away. I
remember asking the doctor why had they taken him away and he said that they
had to weigh him. The time was 8 minutes to midnight.
All of a
sudden it was very quiet. Before my husband and the doctor had been joking
about when our baby was to be born – the 19th or the 20th
of September, and now they were both so still as the doctor stitched me.
I think then
I knew something was wrong with our baby. When the doctor went out I said to my
husband that I know there is something wrong. Why have they taken my baby away.
In a little
while the doctor came back and told us our baby had deformed hands and feet.
His eyes were squint, his face on the right side was dented and it looked as if
his shoulders were not developed and drooped. I asked to see him and when he
was placed in my arms he looked right into my face and I knew no matter what
was wrong with him I loved him.
I opened the
blanket but subconsciously I didn’t want to see, so I never noticed anything
wrong at all. He looked just like my other two children when they were born.
After I was
put into the ward I was going to go into the general ward, but was put into a
private ward instead. I think then it only got through to me.
He was so
tiny, 2490 grams, and so much wrong with him. Could he survive?
Our doctor
was really super and my husband, who has a marvellous outlook on life said,
well he is our son, and it’s going to be a battle but all of us as a family are
going to have to help to get Gavin John moving.
The next
morning a child specialist was called and he said he would like to have him
transferred to a general hospital where there is a doctor who specializes in
hands.
So he was
transferred to the general hospital where he was for 3 weeks. He had a problem
drinking and was tube fed until he was given an orthodontic teat. Going to
visit him was terrible, having to leave him there and when we got home the
children asking who he looked like and when we can have him home.
Well we made
arrangements with the sister in charge to allow the children to see their new
brother, and I must say the staff were wonderful. Nothing was too much trouble
for them. They allowed the children to stand at the nursery door and see their
brother for the first time. How thrilled they were. How wonderful were our
family and friends. People were so kind, praying for him all over South Africa.
And I knew it all helped.
One Sunday
morning we had got back from Church when the hospital phoned to say we could
have Gavin home as he was drinking well and they would not start with his
operations yet, he was still too young.
Well it
really struck me. I did not know if I could handle it. In the hospital I had
given him his bottle, but he was always wrapped. I did not want to see his
hands and his feet or his face. I was scared that I would shudder and reject
him.
I must have
taken half an hour to dress him I was so nervous. Seven years is a long time
and now handling this baby with all these things wrong with him.
On his right
hand his little finger and ring finger are joined together. He has no middle
finger and his first finger and thumb are joined. On the left hand his pointing
finger lies over his other fingers, but the hand is perfect, he has all his
fingers. His feet are turned in, but he has all his toes.
When we told
our other children my daughter said; “At least Mommy he HAS eyes.” Then I
realised it could have been worse.
Well he is
now 3 months old and we all love him dearly. We realise he has a long way to go
but he will make it. His face has filled out on the right side, his eyes have
even improved, although he will still have to have an operation.
He moves his
hands although he still has a problem with his shoulders and his left arm only
has 90% movement.
He is a
happy, contented baby and laughed out loud at 2 months even though he can’t
smile because of his facial muscles not being fully developed.
