NOTE:  My grandmother, Gertrude Estella Jackman Montague, had twin brothers , Golden and Rulon, who came to just be referred to as "The Twins".  I found this among some things Rulon had forwarded to my mother.  It was written by Golden.  I think it captures well circumstances common to ordinary folk in Utah in 1909.  ---SWL 

The Twins’ Christmas

1909

All summer long everything had been ‘GO’.  Every member of the family had a share in a dream of a new home.  The old, three room, log and adobe house seemed to have shrunk with age.  Now with six children still at home and six more, who came home from work jobs once in a while, the old house had scarcely a corner left for dear old daddy and mother.

Father had built a mill in which to make adobe mud.  The center shaft, turned by horse power, pressed the mud out onto a table.  Father stood in a hole beside the table and filled molds all day, many a day, with his bare hands.

By the end of summer, enough adobes had been dried and sold at $4.00 a thousand, to buy enough kiln dried brick for the outside, and line the inside of two large rooms down stairs and three upstairs.  This, besides enough to pay a brick mason for his labor.

A rock foundation had been set, and waiting for months.

Finally came a day to celebrate.  Christmas seemed to be just in time.  Even without a carpet on the floors or plaster on the walls, there was a proper atmosphere to fill the lungs and sing praises.

A Christmas-tree would have to be brought from the snow laden canyon.  Burlap sacks were gathered, these to be tied around feet and legs for boots.  What a wrapped up sight these men were!  They had been so wrapped up with other work that the Christmas tree trip had been postponed until the last day.  All was in readiness at last.  When we awoke the next morning, we were greeted by a heavy layer of new snow.  This looked like a let-down for hopes of a Christmas tree.  But father was one who did not look kindly on letting his family down.

Now, since the mother of invention is necessity, he came up with what, to my knowledge, was the world’s first artificial Christmas Tree.

He selected a red-pine log from our winter’s wood pile, sawed it to the right length, and drilled holes all around and up and down on it.  Into the holes he drove sticks and pegs for limbs.

We popped corn, threaded it on a short piece of straw between each kernel, laced it around with the candles and other arnaments.  We piled cotton around the bottom braces and were all ready for a Merry Christmas.

About eight p.m. my twin brother and I had obediently gone to bed, ‘so that Santa Claus could come’, when out of the clear, cold night came a loud jingle, jingle of sleighbells.  Suddenly the outside door flew open and in burst Santa Claus and Mrs. Santa Claus.  The sleigh bells that they had so snugly buckled around them, made real music to our ears as they danced upon our new kitchen floor.  Our hearts captured the tingling of this vibration, never to let it go.

After they stopped dancing Santa asked, Would you like an ‘opera-bar for a Christmas Present from Santa?  After we had received a precious bar of candy, each, fresh from Santa’s bag, he spoke to us again, as only Santa Claus can, “Now be good boys and go to bed.  We will be back again before morning.”

                                    Then, away they scurried as tho they were hurried;

                                    Our cares and our worries had all been buried.

The smell of sweet chocolate candy was a new experience to us.  It was more of a temptation than we were prepared for.  To save the opera bars until morning, as was suggested, would have taken a safe.  Sweet dreams held us tight.

After we had gone to sleep, two of our older sisters came home from their work jobs.  When we awoke in the morning, we were greeted by their smiles and kisses.  These greetings were gifts we had not expected.

As we proceeded to look for presents, we found a two foot square blackboard.  On it was painted a scene of Christmas trees in their mountain setting. It was done with colored chalk.  We did not erase it for a long time.

As this Christmas-day wore on, the air in our dream home was filled with fragrance.  Mionce meat pies led the way, cinnamon cookies came next; Chicken and dumplings were made last, but eaten first.  These fragrant memories are easily recalled.  I still see those pies, sitting in a row, with their rosy cheeks and oozing sweetness.  They seem to say, “Come back and stay, It’s Christmas Day.”

I sat by my Papa as usual, with my right elbow on his left arm.  If it were  not so at meal time, he felt as much like something was missing, as I did.  My twin brother sat over by mother.

In the late afternoon and evening, the winter air on our corner was filled with the merry jingle, jingle of sleighbells, as only sleigh-bells can fill it.

Up the snow-clad street came the bobsled, loaded with high spirited young folk.  The teamster knew just how fast to get the big team of beautiful, black horses running, and just how to make them pivot to cause the bobsled to slide around in a large circle.  “Cutting Didoes,” they called it.

I believe he had the best ‘Dido-team’ and the largest, clearest ringing set of sleighbells in the country, of course, baring the ones Santa Claus wore on his shoulder and around his waist, the night before.

“Dreams must not stay in the ‘dream-stage forever’. They must either be made to ‘come true’ OR they will shrink back into nothingness.”

Golden L. Jackman

1971

Original (1971) grammar, punctuation and spelling preserved, except where it may have caused confusion.

SWL       

KIRSTEN-ANNE ELIZABETH BIRTH MEMORIES

From my journal:

Weds. Jan 16^th, 1991

What a way to begin a year…United States Air Forces have advanced on Baghdad in response to Iraq Leader Saddam Hussein’s repeated refusal to leave Kuwait, a country they (Iraq) invaded last August.  The United nations set a deadline of January 15^th for Iraq to evacuate.

I guess most knew that it would happen, but I was surprised at how soon.  As Americans we should be grateful that the operation seems to have gone successfully, with few casualties;  but as human beings, our prayers are with those innocents who suffer by reason of wicked and egotistical leaders.

Sunday, March 3d (1991)

Guilt has finally gotten the best of me-I see my journal sitting on my dresser each evening and realize much is going unrecorded.

-Like the birth of our seventh child, Kirsten-Anne Elizabeth, on my birthday January 17^th.  Jeanne went in for a blood pressure check because it felt like it was high.  It was, and the doctor sent her to the hospital for more tests.  After more checks, they decided to keep her and induce labor.  It was not long (about 6 hours) but was very painful; the epidural she asked for did not get administered until right before delivery, and did not kick in (fully) until afterward.  But she’s (Kirsti) been a healthy, good baby, worth the sacrifice (easy for me to say).  I  think, however, she will be our last.

Current:

Thursday, October 20^th, 2016

So all these years later, it hurts that I was such a pathetic journaler during this time period (a warning to you all).  I will say that I have many more photos of Kirsti in my collection, only two of which I have used here.

 

Of course I have often said that Kirsti is my best birthday gift ever, but there has been a special bond there, perhaps because I knew she would be our last.  We share a love of tennis, and got to play numerous times, as she got better and better, and I...well.  

She is like her mother in that she is fearless about undertaking anything that requires talent, believing that if she asserts herself, she can do it.

She was not only a good baby, but an exceptionally easy child to raise.  Her older siblings have accused us of “spoiling” her.  My response is that we made all our mistakes in child raising before Kirsti arrived.  The truth is, we didn’t need to spoil her, as she rarely did anything that displeased us.  Like Joseph Smith described his youthful days,

“…no one need suppose me  guilty of any great or malignant sins.  A disposition to commit  such was never in my nature.

Well, I digress.  This completes the recollections of the births of our seven…from first to last I  couldn’t be happier with the experience, nor prouder of the results.   

SARAH BIRTH MEMORIES

This is actually taken from my journal May 31, 1987.  I was at a military training camp, and had some down-time to ponder and write:

Sarah came into this world suddenly and unexpectedly on April 24^th, at 8:44 a.m.  Jeanne’s projected due date was June 12^th, but for the 4-6 weeks preceding she had been swelling at the ankles and had a little difficulty with breathing.  She had not seen her regular OB-GYN doctor, Jeannette Akhter, for several weeks, thinking that Dr. Akhter would be out of the country at the time Jeanne was due.  Instead she had seen a variety of doctors and assistants, all of whom told her to rest, elevate her feet, etc., but were not particularly concerned.

On Monday, April 20, Jeanne called Dr. Akhter to express her discomfort and see if she would prescribe a diuretic to reduce the body fluids.  Dr. Akhter took one look at Jeanne’s blood pressure tests and said she wanted to see her that afternoon.  She was not pleased with what she saw.  Jeanne’s blood pressure was dangerously high.  She sent her home for two days of 24-hour bed rest.

That night Jeanne felt her heart pounding and was having difficulty breathing.  Frightened, she called the Emergency Room at the hospital.  The doctor on duty told her to sleep sitting up, and call back if that didn’t help.  She managed to make it through the night, but called Dr. Akhter the next morning.  Dr. Akhter told her to come to the hospital right away, and to plan on staying.

At the hospital, the prognosis was not good.  Jeanne would have to stay in bed hooked up to a monitor until her blood pressure went down and stabilized.  Even if that happened, she might have to spend a couple of weeks in the hospital and probably the rest of her pregnancy in bed at home.  If the blood pressure did not go down significantly there would be the threat of a grand mal seizure, which posed a strong possibility of death to the baby, and a somewhat lesser threat to the mother.  If Jeanne’s condition persisted, they would have to take the baby early.

The next two days saw some reduction and stabilization of Jeanne’s blood pressure, but not enough.  On Thursday afternoon, Dr. Akhter decided to induce labor, but still wanted to try for a vaginal delivery.  She put Jeanne on a topical gel which softens the cervix, and on a drip I.V.  which contained a substance which would bring the blood pressure further under control.  Thursday evening Larry Lowe, Gary Kearl and I gave Jeanne a blessing, and all felt at peace.

Friday morning, Jeanne called at about 7:40 a.m. to tell me everything was ok, that by the time I had dropped off the kids at the Lowes' and done the usual morning things, it would be time to come to the hospital for the big event...no rush.

So I got the kids off on the bus to school, cleaned up the breakfast mess, talked briefly on the phone to Elaine Fairbanks, who had called, then dropped the kids over at the Lowes' and talked to Jenny for a few minutes.  I went from there to the hospital, arriving at about 8:55.  I went up to Jeanne’s floor and was met there by Dr. Akhter, who said “Congratulations…you have a daughter!” I must have looked shocked, because Dr. Akhter went on without pausing “Jeanne started having contractions and the baby’s heartbeat was flattening out.  We decided to get her consent to do an emergency C-section.”

Well.  In spite of all the excitement, it ended happily enough.  Sarah was 4 lbs. 8 oz. at birth.  She was 17.25 inches long, and in spite of her early arrival, was amazingly healthy.  She was never in an incubator, was under an air “hood”(plastic bubble) for only three hours, and was released in the minimum (for premature babies) 10 days.  She has been healthy ever since, and now weighs about 6 lbs.  Interestingly, the Doctor said that Jeanne’s high blood pressure had put enough stress on Sarah that her lungs were sufficiently developed for her early arrival.  Also, while we know that medical science has made great advances in the treatment of premature infants and we appreciate all that was done by the doctors, nurses, technicians, and others, I strongly feel that the circumstances that made it possible for Sarah to be born normal and healthy were aided by the multiple prayers and the two blessings that combined the faith and love of family and friends in Sarah’s and our behalves.  We will be eternally grateful for those prayers and the other acts of service and kindness which made our challenge easier.

Postscript:  Because of the nature of the C-section that was done (a very small lateral incision known as a “bikini cut”, rather than the usual vertical incision) Jeanne has returned rather dramatically to good health and has resumed all of her normal activities.  We are extremely grateful for every blessing wrought during this and subsequent events.

Post-post script:  The usual cost for intensive care is $3000.00 per day.  Since Sarah did not need an incubator, her initial charge was $1200.00, and after a few days, that was reduced to $400.00.  Jeanne, because of the nature of her Cesarean, was able to return home 4 days after delivery, about a week after being admitted.  The costs are still substantial, but we have been aided by good insurance.      

STEVE BIRTH MEMORIES

From Steve’s Journal:

30 September 1981:

…Of the news we have received the last few weeks, most of it has been untimely, if not downright bad.

We found out Jeanne’s mom had a malignant lump in her breast, which required a modified mastectomy.  She seemed to come out of surgery fine, but we’re still praying for her complete recovery.

We also found out that Jeanne is pregnant, which is quite difficult for us, since we didn’t plan on any more children until we got out of law school.  It has been an emotional and spiritual struggle, but now we feel at peace with God…

17 May 1982:

Yesterday was my Mother’s birthday, tomorrow is Julina’s birthday, and today our fifth child is born – Steven Matthew Lambson.  When Jeanne became pregnant last fall, our hearts were filled with anguished questions.  Now all we feel is blessed.  Jeanne’s doctor induced labor, and made the situation more comfortable with an “epidural”…a way of anesthetizing the lower extremities.  She delivered at 2:38 p.m., without much trouble.  She is fine; the baby is 9 lbs. 1 oz., and is also in good shape.  We are delighted and grateful.

24 May 1982:

Steven was born a week ago today, and continues to be a happy and healthy young nipper.  Notwithstanding our delight, the presence of a newborn with our already substantial brood of four is every bit the challenge we imagined; but our faith is that the Lord will bless us to rise to the occasion. 

In a burst of sentimentality, Jeanne wanted to change his name to Steven William.  I reluctantly gave my consent.

26 May 1982:

Today has been overcast, but there have been periods of blue sky.  The last few days have been kind of “laid back”, in the current vernacular, as we adjust to the schedule of a 9-day old baby.  It is made easier by the fact that the thrill of having a boy is yet with us.

Many people have been very kind in their concern, and many have gone beyond the call of duty in seeing to our needs…We are overwhelmed (by their kindness).  

Not included in journal:

Amusing anecdote:  During her pregnancy with Steve, Jeanne had a dream (nightmare?) that she delivered a litter of puppies (I don’t know what breed!)

     

Facts I forgot to mention between September 30^th 1981 and May 17^th, 1982:

Shortly after discovering Jeanne was pregnant, we explored our non-insurance options with University Hospital, as we had dropped our health insurance policy just before entering Law School.  They told us of a program where if we would deposit $100.00 per month for the 9 months of the pregnancy, the total cost would be: $900.00.  That was a great deal, even 35 years ago.  I can’t begin to tell you what peace of mind that brought, with other challenges we were facing.  We considered it a heaven-sent miracle.    

BECKIE'S ARRIVAL

THE MAIN EVENT

From Steve’s Journal:

29 March 1981

We are parent a fourth time!  Yesterday…Saturday, 28 March, 1981,at 1:00 p.m. Jeanne gave birth to a 22-inch , 8 lb. 5 oz. Girl.  Her name will be Rebecca Lynn, but we probably won’t bless her until late next month.

The essential details have been partly explained in previous entries.  Jeanne had  been experiencing contractions of varying duration and intensity since the beginning of March, and thought the Army had agreed to pay hospital costs (thus relieving any pressure as to when the baby would be born), Jeanne’s patience was wearing thin.

Friday we went over to the church meetinghouse to help decorate for the Gold and Green Ball.  What we expected to be a two-hour job lasted all day (10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m.) and by the time we left to get dressed for the ball, we were tired.  There was only enough time to rush home, feed the girls, get dressed, and get back.  We arrived at the dance at 7:30 p.m., and the whole affair was very nice.  Jeanne had secretly (though not too secretly) hoped things might work out so she could attend and see the fruits of her labors (she had been in charge of the ball until the two weeks previous).  She was not disappointed.  We danced several dances , and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.  About 9:15 Jeanne started feeling some pretty sharp contractions, about ten minutes apart.   We left the ball at 10:45 and went to Roy Rogers for a sundae, then came home and went to bed.

Jeanne arose a couple of times, around 1:30 a.m., then again about 3:30.  She finally got up for good around 5:00 a.m., and by six we had dropped the girls at Sacketts, and were on our way by about 7:15 a.m.  We arrived at the hospital at 7:30, going directly up to the labor and delivery ward.  As soon as they knew Jeanne’s situation (breach presentation, hard contractions five minutes apart) they admitted her, no questions asked.  We were fortunate to have the obstetrician (Dr. O’Connor) on the floor, and he checked her initially.  She was dilated to 5 cm., and progressing rapidly.  Dr. O’Connor sent her down for some x-rays to determine the baby’s exact position and whether Jeanne’s pelvic cavity was large enough to deliver the baby vaginally.  Both tests turned out good, and the Doctor decided it would be worth it to wait to see if the baby would come down far enough to deliver normally, without a Caesarian section operation.  He thought the chances were excellent, but that Jeanne could look forward to 6-8 more hours of hard labor.

Jeanne proceeded to dilate much more quickly than expected, and by 9:30 she had dilated to 9 cm.  Dr. O’Connor thought the end was near, and told Jeanne a couple of hard contractions should do it.  Unfortunately she got stuck at 9 cm., and by 12:30 the doctors decided the baby wasn’t going to come.  They prepared Jeanne for a Caesarian section, and I helped roll her into the operating room.  Since I couldn’t follow her there, I proceeded to the waiting room to “wait”.  It was about 12:50 p.m.

At 1:00 p.m., a nurse came to the waiting room to inform me that I was a daddy – and that the baby had been delivered vaginally after all, with no operation.  Apparently while they were waiting for the anesthesiologist, the doctor decided to check her one more time.  She had dilated enough that he told her to give it her best shot, and a couple of hard pushes later, out popped the little squirt.  She is a beautiful little thing, looks a lot like Emmie, and I am grateful for the blessing of yet another beautiful, healthy little girl, and the wife and mother of them all.         

            

PRELUDE:

From Steve’s Journal:

15 March, 1981

Today was our last "official” Sunday at Woodbridge Ward…I had my wisdom teeth removed Tuesday, due to a scheduling foul-up Monday.  My lower molars still ache some, but I am much improved…

25 March, 1981

At this writing Jeanne is still pregnant-now some two weeks overdue.  However, our prayers were answered, but in a way we never dreamed of.

By Tuesday last week, Jeanne was fit to be tied.  The two times she had felt contractions of any strength, she’d been turned away from the hospital because she hadn’t dilated at all…and though she had been given a blessing two weeks previous that all would be well, and that the child would be born normally and would (in effect) come while still under the medical “umbrella” of the Army, she was panicky.  My release date was only two days away (Thursday, March 19^th), and we were set to load up the truck Saturday, and fly out Monday!  There seemed to be nowhere to turn…

As always, our Father had things well in hand.  On that Tuesday (March 17^th), Nancy Richardson called Jeanne.  She (Nancy) had been fuming all day that the Army couldn’t cover us after my separation, and finally called a friend who worked in Military Personnel  to see if something couldn’t be done.  The friend recollected that there was a regulation which provided for short-term extensions for “humanitarian reasons”.  Jeanne and I thought it a long shot, but we gave it a whirl.

The next morning (Wednesday) on the way up to my office I checked out a copy of the regulation, AR600-201(para 3).  I read it thoroughly, but it appeared that it applied to Regular Army types, not Active Duty Reservists like me.  I was about to give up when my boss, Colonel Boone, appeared at the door of my office and inquired as to the status of the baby.  When I told him “no progress”, he asked if I was certain there was no way I could extend.  I reported our efforts to apply the AR 600-201 clause to our situation.  He instructed me to make him a copy and sit tight, he’d see something was done.  I found out later he’d gone down to personnel and told them to “get Lt. Lambson extended…whatever needs to be done!”

Captain Biersack, the pretty staff chief in Military Personnel, spent most of the day checking out our options.  A mother herself, she was extremely empathetic.  When she called me at 3:00 p.m., however, she did ask if I got a kick out of seeing her office in a state of panic.  She instructed me to go home and prepare a form letter and attach some personal papers to it.  I would also have to get a letter from Jeanne’s doctor verifying her circumstances.  All of this, incidentally, was to be accomplished under a completely different regulation than we began with.

The next morning Jeanne and I went right to the hospital to get the letter from Dr. Beetner.  I had talked to him, and he had written it Wednesday night, and promised that the secretary would type it up the first thing Thursday morning.

We arrived at 8:00 a.m. and proceeded to wait about 1.5 hours for Jeanne to see an obstetrician (Dr. Beetner wanted a second opinion).  Meantime, I asked the receptionist if the secretary had typed the letter.  She called back to the secretary’s desk and was informed that the letter was back there, but had not been typed, and that another project had taken precedence; no, she (the secretary) did not know when it would be typed…so we sat and waited.

At 11:00, Jeanne caught Dr. Beetner and inquired about the letter.  He checked, said it had been typed, and only needed to be signed by a Colonel in charge of such things.  We went over to that office and had the letter in hand by 11:15.

We sped to the Pentagon and took the letter to Mrs. Robinson of the Military Personnel Office there.  She had us compose, type, and sign a letter there, which took about 45 minutes, and then said that was it…she’d already talked with officials in the Assistant Secretary and Secretary of the Army’s Offices, and gotten unofficial oks….but again under yet another regulation, AR 40.3.

So the final result was this:  I was still separated from the service Thursday evening (12 hours after we got the ok) and Jeanne was given special permission by letter from the Secretary of the Army, to have the baby at the Army’s expense.  So now we are enjoying the time together as we wait patiently for the little arrival…it couldn’t have worked out better.     

Elise Birth Memories

Elise was at all times a child we planned on having.  We knew we would be in military training between March and June in 1979, and so tried, within our capabilities, to create a pregnancy where Jeanne would be due during that time.  We managed to obtain or goal so that Jeanne was due in either late May or early June.

All went well for a time.  Jeanne was progressing nicely as I entered the last month of my Engineer Officer Basic Course at Ft. Belvoir (French for “beautiful woods”) Virginia.  With our first two children, Jeanne had delivered within two weeks of her due date, so Elise should easily come by the end of June.

As I prepared to leave for my final training, a week-long practical exercise in the wilds of FT. A.P. Hill,   Jeanne’s and Elise’s progress seemed to have slowed to a standstill.  By now everyone in my company knew of our daughter’s impending birth, so it became a nearly daily amusement…every time a medical or any chopper (helicopter) flew over our area someone would shout “They’re coming for Lambson!”  I appreciated their support and enthusiasm, but none of the aircraft were in fact for me.  The exercise ended Saturday, and we returned to our homes with only a week remaining in June.

As the final week wound down with graduation as the focal point, we were becoming concerned.  Elise was now almost three weeks overdue.  Our last hope at military coverage for the delivery of our child was that I had applied for a 2-year active duty assignment in Washington D.C. with the Corps of Engineers Office of the Chief of Engineers.  What a relief when near the end of the week and month and cycle, I was informed that I had received the assignment, and would stay for two more years in the D.C area.  I had actually fulfilled my first assignment with that office, a trip to Chicago for a meeting of the Chief of Engineers’ Environmental Advisory Board, before Elise arrived July 9^th, almost a month overdue.  Oh well, she always had a dramatic flair during her early years.*

A couple of amusing postscripts…as we were awaiting her delivery, a few days before Jeanne and I were taking in a movie at the FBI Academy at Quantico, Virginia, a beautiful facility that came under the military-government reduced rate.  The idea was to get Jeanne’s mind off her discomfort and the length of her pregnancy.  The movie?  Invasion of the Body Snatchers!

After she delivered Elise in a very normal way, I was headed to the hospital to visit her and Elise.  On the way, I decided to purchase a book for her to read.  I knew she liked Science Fiction, among other genres, and I wanted to get her something contemporary.   My unwitting choice drew a look of disbelief when I presented it to her.  The book: Alien!

* Less than two years later I had to rush home early from an Advisory Board meeting in Atlanta because Elise had been scheduled for an unplanned surgery to relieve her foot from some osteomyelitis infection that had developed in her heal.

I wish to say at the outset, though it will be obvious, that this will require both a mother’s and a father’s point of view…first, because the participation at the end is so very different; but also, because even given equal settings, men and women tend to think of things so differently.    So this will be a record, in chronological order, of my memories combined with my journal accounts, of the births of each of our seven natural children.

Emily Birth Memories

June 26^th

Jeanne is now nearly two weeks overdue.  This has been a trying pregnancy for her. She has had some hard labor pains the last 24 hours, but nothing consistent enough to get her going.  She has been a good girl through it all…her attitude has been wonderful.

July 3^rd

It was just a short time after the preceding entry was made that Jeanne began to have close, hard

labor.  I took her to the hospital at approx.. 6:30 (p.m.), where she was instructed that the delivery was still some hours away.  Slightly discouraged we decided to visit my family in Orem.  After chatting there a few hours, during which pains got closer, we drove home.  Upon arrival, Jeanne determined that we ought to go to the hospital for a final check.  The nurse this time told her that she was far enough along to be admitted if she desired.  We mulled it over and decided to go for a walk.

We had been walking just a few minutes when pains came uniformly two minutes apart, and much more pronounced.  We hustled her back to the hospital, and the nurse began to prepare her. 

The next hour was one of frustration for Jeanne, and the pains became exceedingly intense, and she feared she might have to go through this for several hours.  It helped her considerably when the doctor arrived, and informed her as to what she could expect.  It was only about 20 minutes thereafter, after a few good thrusts, that Jeanne delivered our second beautiful baby girl (12:45 a.m. or so), an 8 lb. 12 oz. 21.5 “ bundle  of joy.

Things haven’t been perfect since…nursing isn’t easy…but it has been a great experience.  Jeanne’s attitude has been commendable.  Her mother has been here since Wednesday, but left tonight.  She was of immeasurable assistance.

I wish to say at the outset, though it will be obvious, that this will require both a mother’s and a father’s point of view…first, because the participation at the end is so very different; but also, because even given equal settings, men and women tend to think of things so differently.    So this will be a record, in chronological order, of my memories combined with my journal accounts, of the births of each of our seven natural children.

BIRTH MEMORIES – JULINA

Juli was the first…and I think most couples, while overjoyed at the prospect of a child, are also a bit overwhelmed at the idea of parenting.  I mean, it is kind of like driving…you watch other people do it your whole life, but the first time you are alone behind the wheel, you feel like you don’t know anything.  Parenting was much the same for me.

We were thrilled when Jeanne became pregnant with Juli because in young couple-years (see dog-years) it had taken so long…over 8 months!  However, we lived during half of that time in a young- married ward where the bulk of the announcements every Sunday in Sacrament meeting was the names and details of the multiple babies that had been born in the past week.

This pregnancy was almost frighteningly normal.  We had read some materials, and nothing that occurred during that time was outside the parameters of what we read…all was expected.  Jeanne experienced morning sickness, but we knew that would happen, and it was neither dramatic nor lengthy (remember this is my perspective, not hers).  We chose her name one evening in Salt Lake City, doing genealogy at the Church’s main genealogy library there.  We came upon the name Julina, who had been the wife of one prophet (Joseph F. Smith), and mother to another (Joseph Fielding Smith), and we loved it.  Michelle, my older sister’s name, seemed to be the perfect middle name.

On the precise delivery date predicted by the doctor (these things almost never work this way), Jeanne awoke to slight cramps, which we assumed were false labor.  I left for work anticipating a normal day, but at 7:15 a.m. Jeanne called and said the pains were coming at regular intervals. 

We decided she should call Cathy Coverston, a neighbor and good friend who had significant experience as a nurse in maternity wards.  She suggested timing the contractions and waiting a little.

Mid-morning (10:00 or so) with contractions 2-3 minutes apart, Cathy took Jeanne to the hospital.  She had not dilated much, so they sent her home.  At 11:30, Jeanne called me again, and asked that I come.  I took the rest of the day off, and headed home.

From that time until 1:00 we just tried to keep her occupied, and to practice the breathing techniques we had learned in our pre-natal classes.  These were supposed to relax her, and they did help somewhat.  At 1:00 we took her to the hospital, but she still had not dilated much, so home we came again. 

We walked around a bit (a widely suggested method for bringing on contractions), and tracked her contractions.  They grew slowly but steadily closer and stronger.  By mid-afternoon she didn’t feel like doing much, so she lay on a blanket in front of our little tv and we watched an old movie.  The contractions were coming hard and fast, and she would fall asleep between them, worn out by the discomfort.

At about 3:00 Jeanne felt like she would need some pain killer, so we called our doctor, Roger Lewis.  He wanted to check her at his office in Orem, so we drove up very carefully, arriving about 3:20.  After a quick check, Dr. Lewis emerged with alarming news: Jeanne had dilated to 8 centimeters and was ready to have the baby!

I whisked her down to the hospital (hitting almost every light green…a tender mercy to be sure) and pulled in the hospital lot about 3:45.

 They immediately began to prepare her, but their fastest was not fast enough…Jeanne’s waters broke, so they wheeled her into the delivery room.  Dr. Lewis, concerned about some bluish blood which seemed to indicate a lack of oxygen to the baby, called a specialist; but four pushes later, and before the specialist could even get started, Jeanne produced a perfect, beautiful baby girl.  The clock showed 4:12 p.m.

Total time in the hospital before delivery was about 25 minutes; hard labor 3.5-4 hours; total labor, about 11 hours.  They cleaned our baby up, pronounced her healthy, and let Jeanne hold her.  While my wife is not one given easily to tears, there were some that welled up here…she had made it through her first pregnancy, with all the discomfort and pain, and here was its product…our beautiful Julina.

Jeanne was ready for some rest, so I left her, and made some phone calls.  Then, because no one was home at our trailer, I headed…where else…to the ballpark.  I arrived ahead of Jeff’s game, so none of my family were there yet.  I just kind of wandered around in a daze…a deep sense of happiness and peace in my heart.  Two had become three…in such a dramatic yet normal way…that it seemed like a miracle.          

My Grandpa Lambson

To begin with, it is not clear what his full name was or is.  To us, he went by Byron.  On his marriage license it says “Palos Bee”.  In our family tree on LDS familysearch.org he is identified as “Apolos or Paulus Byron”.  On his draft registration card “Palous B”.  I guess  if there is a final judgment, it might be his death certificate, which has him as ”Paulas Byron”.

His was not an easy life.  His mother died in July of 1902, when he was 4.  His father died seven months later in February, 1903, less than a month after his 5^th birthday, leaving him an orphan.  He went to live with his Aunt Mary (Stradling, his mother’s sister) and Uncle George Cook.  He was married to Myrle Nelson in 1917at the age of 19, she only 18.  She died less than five years later a month after giving birth to their third child, my Uncle Bill, who in 1943 was shot down flying a mission over France, and was never found.

When I was younger, I never connected these dots that formed the harsh outline of my Grandfather’s life.  If I had, I might have cut him a little slack.  He married my Mom’s mom Gertrude after her husband passed away in 1939.  It didn’t last too long (probably because of his drinking), but long enough for Mom (Iola) to become pen–pals with Dad (Virg), which led eventually to their marriage (tender mercies)…and to make our family tree more interesting.

He lived with us for several of my formative years, in the unfinished part of our basement in Orem.  His living there was in part a result of an accident he had while intoxicated, running his vehicle into the Provo River. 

He ate meals with us, but otherwise kept pretty much to himself.  My father would drive him places, and even take him fishing with him from time to time, but there was always an undercurrent of left-over resentment that, after the death of his wife, Byron left the three children in the care of friends and relatives and became a wanderer…so that they were, in effect, orphans as well.

What I came to appreciate later is how loyal he was.  He always came to our little-league baseball games.  He stood by himself, off to the side of the bleachers, but according to Mom, he would tell anyone who approached him and would listen what terrific players we were…in some detail. 

Besides fishing, another passion he and my father shared was watching boxing matches.  I can remember them both glued to the old black and white T.V. for the Gillette Friday Night Fights…usually a double-header.  I never heard of most of the boxers, and didn’t care much for the sport, but watching Grandpa was entertainment enough.  When he would get really excited, he would come out of his chair and imitate the punches and moves that he thought the guy he was rooting for would or should make.

I sat next to him at the table, and he always made his coffee really strong.  We kids would joke that you could make a spoon stand upright in it.  I later gave it credit for insuring that I would never be tempted in the least to drink coffee.

Grandpa moved into his own place in Provo sometime during my high school years.  I didn’t see him much between then and my mission.  He died in the summer of 1976 while I was away at ROTC camp; but I am grateful that he lived long enough that Jeanne and I were able to have him over to our BYU trailer to dinner a few times, and get to know him better. Love you,  Grandpa.  

    

Duchess – Springer Spaniel Royalty

Don’t even get me started on Duchess…she came into our lives as a mature dog, I forget from where.  Though she was pure- bred, she had this goofy knot of fur on top of her head that made it hard to ever take her seriously.

My mom swore that she would never have an indoor dog, but somehow Duchess wound herself around her heart, just like the rest of us, so in she came...and stayed in mom's bedroom

She would fetch anything you threw, including rocks.  If you threw a certain squeaky duck, she would pick it up, retreat to some safe place, put the duck between her paws and lick and care for it as if it were a puppy.

She was also a baseball cousin of Snoopy.  Whenever we played a pickup game of baseball, she had to be there, and would frequently stop ground balls before they got to the fielder, and proudly take them to the pitcher, much to our dismay.

She was a great hunter, in spite of her goofiness, and she could talk…my she could talk!  Not just words, but sentences.  And she would only howl when induced…Jeff, Dave, me, or any of us could sit near her and start to moan, raising it up to a whine, then a howl, and she would follow right along, and keep going when we stopped.  We would laugh ourselves silly until mom yelled at us to stop.

When she passed, as all dogs do, it left a hole in mom’s heart that could only be filled one way.  I am convinced without Duchess, there would not have been a Marjon.  

Roar For Orem High!

This is my high school's fight song.  Unlike other school's fight songs at the time,
it was not based on a popular college fight song, or a rousing march, but was a
completely original piece, composed by Clyde Sandgren and arranged by Ralph
Laycock, whom Mom will recognize as one of the musical legends at BYU.  We
were always so proud to have our own unique fight song!   

Two Little Boys

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This was a song Iola (my mother) sang to my brother Dave and I when we were young. It was not original with her, and different words and tunes can be found around the internet...but these are the words she sang to us. It can still make me cry like a baby: Two Little Boys Two little boys had two little toys, Each had a wooden horse; Gaily they'd play each summer's day, Brave little warriors of course. One little chap had a mishap, Broke off his horse's head... Cried for his toy, then cried for joy When Joey solemnly said: Did you think I would leave you crying When there's room on my horse for two? Over the hills we'll be flying He can go just as fast with two! When we grow up, we'll both be soldiers, And our horses will not be toys... Then do you think we'll remember When we were two little boys? Long years rolled past, war came at last Bravely they marched away. Cannon roared loud! 'Midst the wild crowd Wounded and dying Joe lay. Then tried and true, a horseman broke through, Rushed to the soldier's side... Jumped to the ground, threw his arms 'round, As to his brother he cried, Do you think I would leave you dying When there's room on my horse for two? Over the hills we'll be flying, He can go just as fast with two! Did you say that you're all a-tremble? Well, perhaps its the battle's noise... Or perhaps it is that you remember When we were two little boys. As I type, the memories are thick, and the tears flow unbidden down my cheeks.