The Story Of Fairlight

I was born

Let's start at the very beginning because it is a very good place to start. Pardon the Sound of Music reference; much of my life involves snippets of music as you will see.

When my mom was pregnant with me, she felt as though there must be something unusual about her pregnancy. She had already carried one baby, my older brother Oaky, to term and she knew the bulges that were his heels, fists, rump, and head. With me, too many bulges appeared over too wide a spread. She might count two heels on one side of her abdomen while simultaneously feeling another set of bulges on the other side which made me seem to be one huge baby...or a twin.

Multiple times, she asked Dr. Lumsden if I might be twins, but in those days in rural Northeast Georgia, ultrasounds were not performed routinely, only if something dangerous were suspected. Therefore Dr. Lumsden listened closely through his stethoscope all around her abdomen; he reported only one heartbeat, only one baby.

Since my heartbeat was strong, regular, and seemingly solitary, nothing required the ultrasound, which would have set her mind at ease, so throughout the latter part of her pregnancy, she wondered if she was going to give birth to a giant baby or a monster with extra limbs.

In the weeks before I was born, Mom had other experiences involving her inordinately large abdomen. My dad had been elected two years earlier to the State House of Representatives as the the representative for our district. Mom and Oaky were in Atlanta with him during the session of 1976 which began in January and lasted through March. One of those days while riding an elevator, a fellow passenger embarrassed my sweet mother by asking her if she was having a whale!

Oaky had been born the year Dad was first elected to the House, so he turned two in February. Up until now he was the OC of the family, which means only child (Mom loves to turn everything into initials). He was used to being able to sit in his mamma's lap whenever she sat down to make a lap. As I grew, I protruded further and further into her lap until only four inches were left, basically just knees sticking out. Oaky could no longer sit comfortably; he could barely perch in her lap. I had pushed him out.

I am sure there are other stories from the time leading up to my birth, but for the sake of time, we shall move on to the day of my birth March 31st. Mom was at 37 and a half weeks in her pregnancy which was still considered early in those days. Early or not, I was making my appearance. Mom labored with out pain medicine until she was far enough along that it was time to administer the saddle block, which was injected in the spine similarly to the epidural of today. When she sat up on the edge of the table she felt my head crowning and told the nurse it was too late for the saddle block. The nurse did not believe her, but when she checked sure enough I was ready to come into the world.

It was right around the shift change for the nurses so there was organized chaos as they got Dr. Lumsden to come in to deliver me. After I made my early entrance, which I must say is the last time in my life I think I have ever been early for anything, the doctor said very calmly, "Get ready for another one."

After having announced this to the whole room, Dr. Lumsden said to Mom, "Well Mrs. Dover, you were right. It is twins!" Four minutes after I made my debut, my slightly-smaller twin sister arrived. Now the world knew that I was not an I, but the first half of a we.

The flurry of activity that followed can only be imagined--wheeling us out to be cleaned, wheeling Mom from the delivery room back to her regular room, telling the whole extended family. Three vignettes from that time remain. While wheeling down the hallway from delivery, mom sees Grandmother and raises her hand in a V saying tearily, happily, "It's two!" When we were brought in to her the first time, the nurses had put our hair up into little pink-bowed ponytails on top of our heads. When told about our arrival, our Uncle Stanley who was visiting our Uncle Brantley in Japan, thought that Suzanne having twins was an April Fools' joke. (Since Japan is across the International Dateline, March the 31st here is April the 1st there.)

As the firstborn, I was named Fairlight, the name Mom and Dad had picked out years before while reading Christy by Catherine Marshall.  As the unexpected one, my sister waited three days to be named because our parents wanted her to have an equally-special name and had to search for it.  The name she was given was Rebecca; she was named after one of our great grandmother's.