Pt II

I (m30) was born down the street from the square. My mother had rapidly developed high blood-pressure and swelling. 4 weeks before she (or I) was ready, she watched her baby whisked away into intensive care. While friends and church patrons from the valley were right by her side the whole time, being kept from her son was unbearable.

Her treatment for preeclampsia continued and she was allowed to go home before me. They didn’t live far from the hospital so she was able to sleep in her own bed and spend the rest of the day at my side (I’m told). After 9 nail-biting days we were reunited. Finally she could hold her baby without wires or hoses.

26 years later, I received a call from my wife. She had been sent to the hospital with a blood pressure reading of 180/115…4 weeks before she was due. In a matter of hours we watched our own son as the NICU nurses treated him. Hoses and wires and heaters and lights surrounded our boy. He got stronger. We barely held on. Every beep and alarm and breath reminded me of how my mother stood, unable to hold her boy.

In Jackson Hole, they had friends and family. By 2020 in New Jersey we had no one.

Today our boy and his sister are healthy and, even better, are surrounded by a community of friends and family that will come through, just like in Jackson all those years ago.

The photo: My wife and son when we first moved back to the area.