Serafina Happens

Before marrying Carla Loffredo on May 6, 1989, the inevitable question arose; do we want to have children? I had two children from my prior marriage, Peter and Suzanne. Despite my many attempts to welcome them into my new life with Carla, my relationship with both of my children had not weathered my divorce of their mother, Janet, in the latter 1980's and I was hesitant to start the process all over again with another child now. What if I mess up again? But Carla, who had no children from her first marriage, was now determined to have a child. We talked a lot about this subject. Finally, I decided I wanted to make Carla's life complete, and give it another try. We would have a child. This is the story of how my gamble to again attempt parenthood played out. Was it the right decision?

The Preparation

With both of us working full time, this required planning of the type I had never done in my first marriage. In the best Italian tradition, Carla knew her mother and father would be available to help raise our child. But we wanted to be closer to their home in Rutherford, New Jersey, so we decided to buy a condo in Fort Lee, New Jersey. This also provided an easy path into New York via the GW Bridge. In 1988, we bought a 2-bedroom condo at the Horizon House complex on the Hudson. 

Horizon House

For a short time, I used the second bedroom, our child’s planned bedroom, as my office. Until December 7, 1988, I was smoking in it. When I quit, knowing that smoking and our future child didn’t go together, I did a cold-turkey quit with the help of a Bergen County Assistance program, and shortly after began cleaning the smoke-tainted walls of the second bedroom. I was amazed at the amount of cigarette residue that came off the walls.

Afterward, in anticipation of a child we had now learned would be a girl, I did an impressionistic oil painting for our new daughter, that we still have today.

Pregnancy

As Carla's pregnancy progressed, I had the pleasure of meeting her OB/GYN doctor, Dr. Bo, at Columbia Presbyterian hospital. We hit it off. He was a warm, intelligent man who was also a serious musician. In fact, during our visits together, we’d chat the whole time about music, much to the chagrin of Carla. I suppose the history of classical musicians is not what you want to hear during your sonogram appointment.

I also noticed his waiting room sometimes had long lines of somber looking women dressed in ankle-length black dresses. I asked Dr. Bo who these women were. His answer truly shocked me. "They are Orthodox Jewish women sent here by their Rabbi. I'm officially listed as a high-risk OB/GYN doctor." I still looked puzzled, so he smiled and continued his explanation. "Orthodox Jewish women do not typically take a full month of rest between pregnancies. So, after the first delivery, all the next ones become high-risk." I had never heard that before, and was happy to know that Dr. Bo was trusted as a high-risk OB-GYN. Carla was in good hands.

The next preparation I participated in was taking Lamaze classes; the training that claims to prepare both the wife and husband to be partners in the birth process. My so-called role was, of course, limited to simply being there, and, perhaps, helping Carla with proper breathing. It was an historic moment for me, never having been present during the birth of either of my first two children. Would I be able to handle it?

The Lamaze classes were educational, and I'm glad I went to them. But I didn't feel I could do much for Carla during delivery except, be there for her, and maybe help her with the right breathing. That's okay. Maybe, I could be some help to Carla. I won't say I was looking forward to it, however. The Lamaze class instructor told us some husbands faint. Okay! I'd just have to "man up" and be there.

The Delivery

The big day came and I proudly drove Carla to Columbia Presbyterian hospital. She got out and proceeded to go up to the appointed floor, while I parked the car, and carried our luggage back to the entrance. We had made arrangements for me to stay in her room for a few days, sleeping on a fold out chair. But on my return to the hospital entrance, I was having trouble carrying the luggage up the hill and then up the entrance stairs. My asthma/emphysema (remember all my prior years of smoking) was the cause. When I got to the hospital, the attendant offered me no help whatsoever, to my surprise. I managed to get myself and the luggage into an elevator and up to the right floor, but I was stressed out and barely able to breathe.

Columbia Presbyterian Hospital

The irony was, when I arrived, Carla had been signed in and was resting comfortably, but when the nurses saw my appearance, they paid more attention to me than to Carla. Forget the fact my wife was in labor, they thought I might drop dead right there. I ended up being okay after a few moments, but it was a memorable experience.

After a night's sleep, Carla and I were ready for the big moment. We were brought into the delivery room and it was obvious that the procedure was going to be very professionally handled with the well-trained staff. Dr. Bo was ready and I took my position sitting next to Carla on the delivery room table. Now, please don't ask me exactly what happened after that. I remember bits and pieces but I was a visitor with a very limited role. I remember seeing some blood and I knew it was painful for Carla. I remember the shock when I finally saw our baby girl for the first time. Oh my God, she was blue! No one told me anything about this, so I thought there was something wrong. I wanted to yell, but I didn't have the energy, and everyone was so damned calm and pleasant. Why? I finally spoke up in a despeate tone. "Dr. Bo, the baby is..." I wanted to say blue, but he just smiled and said, "Oh, we just have to pink her up a bit." They put our baby on the warming table and other doctors and staff did much more. The procedures were all part of a well-orchestrated performance for them. Our baby was still very much alive. Thank God!

I was finally beginning to calm down, and Carla was completely exhausted. We were moved to a nearby room where Carla could lie in a bed and get much needed sleep. But now I finally had an important role to play. Our room wasn't ready, they said, so we'd have to wait, and I was given our precious baby to hold, as I sat in a rickety chair. I couldn't believe the miracle I was holding. We had decided to name a girl Serafina, a traditional Italian name, used in Carla's family. The name translates into English as Seraphim, an angel of the highest order, often depicted as a child with wings. Serafina had a skull cap to protect her still unclosed skull. I held her head in my right hand, and her feet barely reached the end of my forearm. My God! She had just been born. I was dead tired, but I now had a duty to hold onto our precious Serafina no matter what. I fought my body. I was committed to staying awake, and I did. I bit my tongue and lip doing it, but I stayed awake.

The Recovery

Two hours after the delivery we were taken to our room and our precious Serafina was now in the arms of a nurse being taken to the nursery. I fell asleep on the fold out chair. After more rest, a hospital manager came to apologize for the lack of help I had experienced the night before. He informed us that attendant had been fired and we were given some added perks but I don't recall them now.

Carla had been through a difficult birth, but slowly recovered. Now, Carla's family visits were frequent. It wasn't long before we were ready to bring our new family to our Horizon House apartment in Fort Lee, NJ.

At Home Again

Thanks to Carla's mother, Margaret (Nonni in Italian), Carla had expert assistance in child care at home. I was amazed by what they did and knew how to do for Serafina.

I was also amazed at how bright-eyed and intelligent-looking our daughter looked. Serafina's room was full of indulgent-parent accessories. One of the most useful, we found, was a large swing with, as I recall, a total of 40 C batteries to make it move back and forth on its own. I recall one night; Carla and I sat on the bed after puttng Serafina in her swing. We soon lay back and accidentally fell asleep as the swing moved and Serafina smiled. I couldn't believe how long we slept like that for over 30 minutes. When we awoke, the swing was still going, and Serafina was still smiling.

I loved holding her on my lap and reading books with her. She didn't talk yet but she seemed to understand a lot. Her intelligence was much above average we found out later. I felt like I was making a connection even without a conversation.

The Baptism

Within a few months, we decided it was time for the expected Baptism ceremony. Our surprise was that some Catholic churches would not agree to perform the ceremony for us. Both Carla and I had gone through divorce and that made us ineligible to them for this service. I couldn't believe such rigidity still existed within the Catholic Church, but it did. Carla finally found the Madonna Catholic Church in Fort Lee, which would be happy to perform the service for us. Carla showed her appreciation with regular contributions for a long time afterward. It was a nice service, and most of Carla's family attended.

Mom, Nonni, and Serafina

The Answer to My Big Question

Did I make the right decision to have another child?  I cannot imagine life without Carla and Serafina now. Thank God, I don't have to.