| Biographical Non-Fiction posted March 3, 2023 |
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I'd almost given up the idea of having any boys
Twins?!
by T B Botts
I suppose every man would like to have a son to carry on the family name. Maybe I'm wrong, but the idea that you will be the last in your family to have your surname could leave a fellow a little melancholy. From 1974 to 1982 my wife delivered five girls. In 1976 we were living at Game Creek on the farm and kept having to expand our living quarters to accomodate our growing family. Five kids is a lot to take care of for just about anyone. Frankly, I was hoping that before my youngest daughter was born, that she might be a boy. Don't get me wrong, I love my girls, but I knew that I was the last hope for carrying on the Botts name.
My older brother, Mark, was married to a gal who had a medical issue and had difficulty getting pregnant. Through the miracle of modern medicine, she was able to conceive and had a daughter, but it was a one time event. My younger brother, Brett, never got married. My youngest brother, John, had died in a car accident when he was sixteen. That left me, not that I was trying.
After my youngest daughter was born, I started thinking about how to put an end to the family expansion program. Celibacy wasn't an option, and I felt like Jan had done enough with having to carry all those kids, so I decided I would go get an operation myself. The idea was kind of scary, but it was becoming fairly common and it appeared to have few side effects. The closest medical facility was in Hoonah, so I went up to the clinic and talked to the physicians assistant who ran it. He informed me that I would have to go to Juneau for a physical exam and then wait and go back for the operation.
Juneau was a three and a half hour trip by ferry. Then there was the issue of finding a place to stay while I was there, as well as meals. Also, in order to get in to see a doctor usually required at least a few weeks notice. Add to that, there was no telephone on the farm. I had to go in to town to call and make an appointment, and the only phone available was at the house the farm rented. There would be no privacy when I made the call, something I really didn't relish. While I was considering all of this, Jan became pregnant again. Oh Lord! I was going to be the father of six kids. The idea was hard to fathom.
There was a gal on the farm who had been a nurse for a number of years before moving to there who kind of kept an eye on the expectant mothers at the community. She did things like check their blood pressure and listen to the heartbeats and whatnot. I would think that just being on the farm would make your blood pressure rise to dangerous levels without throwing in a pregnancy. Anyway, this wasn't Jan's first rodeo, so we weren't too concerned. She seemed to be doing well.
A few weeks before her due date, we took the ferry to Juneau where we stayed with friends. They had been with us for every delivery since my first daughter was born. When the time came, they drove us to the hospital and waited. I went in to the birthing room with Jan. I'd been through this before, but it was still unnerving. There is little I could do to make her comfortable, and seeing her in obvious pain was distressing. To make matters worse, there was a nurse who was in and out of the room checking statistics and measuring the time between labor pains and also dialation. The doctor, who wasn't her normal one, was down the hall watching a football game or some such thing on TV. He almost missed the birth.
I noticed that Jan seemed to be having some difficulty that she usually didn't have and the doctor was asking her to try different things. I was starting to get a little agitated. Finally, she gave birth and I had a son. I was ecstatic, but the feeling didn't last long. While the doctor waited for the placenta to pass, baby number two stuck his hand out and retrieved it. The doctor exclaimed,"there's another one here!"
What? How the heck can that be? Jan had been getting regular check ups on the farm, and had even come to Juneau for a checkup, and nothing was said about twins? I was still trying to take in the fact that I was going to be the father of seven kids, not six, when the doctor mentioned there was a problem. Apparently the baby was lying sidewise in the womb and didn't want to turn so they had to rush Jan to surgery. I was sent to the front desk to sign consent forms, and I spotted Jan on a gurney being rushed into a different room. She was as white as a sheet, and I was trembling at the thought that I might lose her.
After what seemed like hours, the surgeon came out and annouced that Jan was fine, the surgery was a success and I had another son. She mentioned that she had to deliver him Ceasarean section, and while she was in there, she cut, tied and burned the ends of the fallopian tubes so we didn't have to worry about future births. Though I can't recall right now, I think that we must have mentioned to her regular doctor that we were done having kids, so the surgeon didn't do anything she wasn't supposed to.
Aside from the surprise of having two boys, we were to discover that they had two different birthdays. Ben was born natural, and was delivered on July 31st. Brian was born C-section, on the other side of midnight, August 1st. Over the years it's caused a bit of confusion for some paper pushers. Recently we were updating our will, and when the person on the other end of the phone heard us mention the two different birthdays he thought we were mistaken. It's given us another chance to tell the story of their birth, which like, so much that's happened in my life, was unusual.
I suppose every man would like to have a son to carry on the family name. Maybe I'm wrong, but the idea that you will be the last in your family to have your surname could leave a fellow a little melancholy. From 1974 to 1982 my wife delivered five girls. In 1976 we were living at Game Creek on the farm and kept having to expand our living quarters to accomodate our growing family. Five kids is a lot to take care of for just about anyone. Frankly, I was hoping that before my youngest daughter was born, that she might be a boy. Don't get me wrong, I love my girls, but I knew that I was the last hope for carrying on the Botts name.
My older brother, Mark, was married to a gal who had a medical issue and had difficulty getting pregnant. Through the miracle of modern medicine, she was able to conceive and had a daughter, but it was a one time event. My younger brother, Brett, never got married. My youngest brother, John, had died in a car accident when he was sixteen. That left me, not that I was trying.
After my youngest daughter was born, I started thinking about how to put an end to the family expansion program. Celibacy wasn't an option, and I felt like Jan had done enough with having to carry all those kids, so I decided I would go get an operation myself. The idea was kind of scary, but it was becoming fairly common and it appeared to have few side effects. The closest medical facility was in Hoonah, so I went up to the clinic and talked to the physicians assistant who ran it. He informed me that I would have to go to Juneau for a physical exam and then wait and go back for the operation.
Juneau was a three and a half hour trip by ferry. Then there was the issue of finding a place to stay while I was there, as well as meals. Also, in order to get in to see a doctor usually required at least a few weeks notice. Add to that, there was no telephone on the farm. I had to go in to town to call and make an appointment, and the only phone available was at the house the farm rented. There would be no privacy when I made the call, something I really didn't relish. While I was considering all of this, Jan became pregnant again. Oh Lord! I was going to be the father of six kids. The idea was hard to fathom.
There was a gal on the farm who had been a nurse for a number of years before moving to there who kind of kept an eye on the expectant mothers at the community. She did things like check their blood pressure and listen to the heartbeats and whatnot. I would think that just being on the farm would make your blood pressure rise to dangerous levels without throwing in a pregnancy. Anyway, this wasn't Jan's first rodeo, so we weren't too concerned. She seemed to be doing well.
A few weeks before her due date, we took the ferry to Juneau where we stayed with friends. They had been with us for every delivery since my first daughter was born. When the time came, they drove us to the hospital and waited. I went in to the birthing room with Jan. I'd been through this before, but it was still unnerving. There is little I could do to make her comfortable, and seeing her in obvious pain was distressing. To make matters worse, there was a nurse who was in and out of the room checking statistics and measuring the time between labor pains and also dialation. The doctor, who wasn't her normal one, was down the hall watching a football game or some such thing on TV. He almost missed the birth.
I noticed that Jan seemed to be having some difficulty that she usually didn't have and the doctor was asking her to try different things. I was starting to get a little agitated. Finally, she gave birth and I had a son. I was ecstatic, but the feeling didn't last long. While the doctor waited for the placenta to pass, baby number two stuck his hand out and retrieved it. The doctor exclaimed,"there's another one here!"
What? How the heck can that be? Jan had been getting regular check ups on the farm, and had even come to Juneau for a checkup, and nothing was said about twins? I was still trying to take in the fact that I was going to be the father of seven kids, not six, when the doctor mentioned there was a problem. Apparently the baby was lying sidewise in the womb and didn't want to turn so they had to rush Jan to surgery. I was sent to the front desk to sign consent forms, and I spotted Jan on a gurney being rushed into a different room. She was as white as a sheet, and I was trembling at the thought that I might lose her.
After what seemed like hours, the surgeon came out and annouced that Jan was fine, the surgery was a success and I had another son. She mentioned that she had to deliver him Ceasarean section, and while she was in there, she cut, tied and burned the ends of the fallopian tubes so we didn't have to worry about future births. Though I can't recall right now, I think that we must have mentioned to her regular doctor that we were done having kids, so the surgeon didn't do anything she wasn't supposed to.
Aside from the surprise of having two boys, we were to discover that they had two different birthdays. Ben was born natural, and was delivered on July 31st. Brian was born C-section, on the other side of midnight, August 1st. Over the years it's caused a bit of confusion for some paper pushers. Recently we were updating our will, and when the person on the other end of the phone heard us mention the two different birthdays he thought we were mistaken. It's given us another chance to tell the story of their birth, which like, so much that's happened in my life, was unusual.
 Recognized |
When Jan found out she was pregnant, she prayed that if it were a boy, that there would be two of them. She feared that one boy with five older sisters would either turn out to be a bully or a wimp. God certainly listened to her prayers and we've been blessed ever since.
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