A circumstance arose following the birth of our first son, Michael on January 19th, 1975. While his birth had gone surprisingly well and his development following his birth appeared to be on track; an extremely surprising announcement and development followed approximately 2 months following the blessed event.

Michael’s arrival took place on January 19th, 1975 during the evening hours of about 9 and 10 pm. Mary and I had lived for a few months at our 2nd story apartment on 3rd Street. The apartment was a single bedroom with adequate space for a young couple starting out in life. As Mary’s abdomen seemed to grow with each passing week; we both knew that an impending delivery was in our near future. I had been somewhat engrossed in my Master’s degree endeavors for about a year and had simultaneously been involved in my employment in the university’s Finance department as a new programmer. I’d also been serving as a stake assistant secretary in the 10th stake for several months. Mary had been engaged in her work as an 5th grade elementary school teacher at the Mapleton Elementary school district. Regardless of attendant responsibilities; our united progress marched inexorably toward the event of Michael’s impending arrival.

During the preceding weeks; Mary and I had attended a training program intended to prepare couples for the challenges and rigors of their soon-to-be birthing experience. During the program’s duration; I’d been properly instructed in the participation a husband played in coaching and attending to his wife’s needs as she underwent the difficulties of natural childbirth. Likewise, Mary had been instructed regarding the changes, challenges and strains natural childbirth would invoke in a delivering woman. Both of us had been mildly startled at the starkness of the presentation(s) made and the roles each of us would play in the upcoming event. Needless to say; we both were reminded of the significance childbirth would have on each of us – not to mention the stresses endured by the baby!

Whilst going about the customary activities of a Saturday evening at home; Mary began to experience pangs and cramps accompanying the onset of childbirth. Anxious to avoid an embarrassing ‘false alarm’ (called Braxton Hicks) we awaited a more convincing development of contractive cramps. As such took place, we finally conceded to travel to the Utah Valley Hospital where we were readily admitted to the labor and delivery unit of the Maternity Ward. Properly prepped and placed in a labor room; we both settled into what we both anticipated as an extended night of labor.

However, we soon learned that such was not the case; inasmuch as the labor seemed to be progressing faster than we’d been led to believe. Approximately 20 minutes following our arrival in our labor room; a nurse fastened a device & instrument that would allow for monitoring mother and baby during a period of intense labor immediately preceding delivery. Such a period is referred to as ‘transition’ and often lasts about an hour.

It is at this point that I wish to interject an event that took placed amidst Mary and Michael’s labor. Weeks prior to the events of that evening; I’d been told a joke. In light of the extremities of the delivery process; I found the joke to be particular poignant and moderately humorous regarding the dramatic proceedings of an otherwise common human experience. (Reminder: We all get born – in the same way!) The joke is entitled: The Wowee Bird.

It seems that most are not aware of the Wowee Bird. When confronted, most reply with the query:

What is a Wowee Bird? To this the teller explains that a Wowee Bird is a one-pound bird that lays a two-pound egg! And each time an egg is laid, the Wowee Bird exclaims a screeching loud:

Woweeee!

I had weeks earlier shared the joke with Mary. I remember her response was a mild chortle – no doubt due to the realities she then faced.

To return to the proceedings in the labor room; being a computer scientist and deeply interested in technology; I was enamored (to some degree) with the transition monitor and its graphical representation of the intensity with which transitional contractions were occurring. As the graph provided (in real time) the intensity of the contraction would rise with its graphic display and then lower (graphically) as the contraction relaxed. Following several contractions, I found that I could announce a transitional contraction a second or two prior to Mary’s actual experience of it. I suppose I was attempting to assist her as I announced the onset of a new contraction. (Please remember I was a neophyte delivery coach and subject to numerous stimuli as I endeavored to participate in newly found surroundings and activities [even stressful ones]) As a novice, I attempted to interject a measure of humor into the all-encompassing circumstance. As each contraction approached; I’d announce: “Here comes another Wowee!”. With the benefit of coaching six childbirths; I can now announce that women - in the throws of childbirth - seldom (if ever) have an accommodating sense of humor!

Fortunately, the labor and delivery went well and I found myself congratulating my wife as the mother of a newborn son approximately 90 minutes following our admittance to the hospital. In fact, amidst my congratulations and Mary’s glow of childbirth’s completion; Mary suggested we have another. I responded that we pay to attention to the one we had and waited for her glow to dissipate. One sleepless night later I found the glow had subsided!

Quitting her Mapleton job; Mary threw herself into the newfound excitement of a new mother. She relished the time she spent with Michael; while I resumed my responsibilities with work, school and church. While Mary’s life had utterly changed; mine had not – except for added expenses, responsibilities and disrupted sleep. Don’t get me wrong; I likewise relished the advent of a new son into our home and enjoyed holding him and cooing his warm soul. Nevertheless, I could not shake the additional responsibility Michael’s arrival had invoked.

A couple of months later, I would realize the deep and eternal verity such a responsibility incurred. As Michael’s progress was tracking well for two months following his birth; we seemed to have settled into a routine for new parents. Unfortunately, one afternoon I was called at my office to learn from Mary that Michael was experiencing difficulty. As Mary had just recently introduced Michael to solid food, she was cognizant of Michael’s changes. Additionally, she’d visited Michael’s pediatrician that day to follow through with his 6-week checkup! Amidst that checkup the doctor detected something in Michael’s abdomen and examined him even closer. Following close examination, it turned out that only one of Michael’s lungs had fully inflated at childbirth. I was certainly taken back by the new information, inasmuch as Michael appeared to be a healthy young baby. Apparently, we’d all been blessed by Michael’s very recent adoption of solids. Had they been earlier, he’d have significantly risked an intestinal blockage that would’ve led to much more serious complications – perhaps leading to his death.

I was mildly incensed that there could be something wrong with Michael. Apparently, Mary contacted the doctor and conveyed my attitude. A few hours later, I received a call from Michael’s doctor. I conveyed my reticence at Michael’s diagnosis and registered my dissatisfaction. To my surprise, the doctor explained in no uncertain terms: “Mr. Davis, do you want to have to bury your son?” I, taken back by his forthrightness, replied - of course not. To this the doctor exclaimed: “Well, that is very likely what you’ll have to do if we don’t perform necessary surgery on him very soon, perhaps tomorrow!” Being shocked by his direct forthrightness; I relented to his pronouncement and determined we’d have to follow his direction immediately thereafter! Hanging up the phone I immediately excused myself and left for home. Upon arrival; Mary and I consulted together and unitedly determined to follow the doctor’s directions to the tee – our beloved son’s life was at stake!

Most of that evening and next day was a blur of dread and emotion. In fact, I remember virtually nothing; until we found ourselves turning over our beloved baby boy to the surgery staff that would care for Michael during the following hours as we awaited his outcome. We were told that the surgery was delicate due to Michael’s infancy and diminutive features. We were instructed we’d been informed of the surgery’s outcome in about three hours.