Greatest Joy to Pressure Cooker
In the fall of 1996 Dave and I made a decision to change churches. Doug had been attending Lighthouse Church since high school, because it was where his girlfriend Joy and her family attended. We decided to join them. I loved hearing our new pastor, Steve, preach God’s word. It was like a fresh drink of water to my thirsty soul. His simple challenges encouraged growth without a heavy list of “do’s and don’ts.” He challenged us to read the Bible daily, and to think about, and meditate on one verse in a chapter. He also encouraged us to pray for ten minutes a day. I remember him saying, “Ladies, consider how long it takes to put on your makeup in the morning, usually fifteen minutes, so ten minutes or more for prayer isn’t much time to invest in talking to God.” I found the new challenges encouraging and began to weave them into my life. I had come to a place where I could rest and refresh. We didn’t know that big challenges would come barreling down on our family. During such a tough time in our lives the church would cast a lifeline; we’d joined a church that “walked their talk.”
Serena and Will drove from Eugene to tell us they were expecting. They had scheduled an ultrasound and I went up to see the baby forming. We found out she would be having a girl and was due in January, what a way to start the New Year! Dave and I were prepared. Bags packed, car gassed up, and ready to go when we got the word. When word came, Dave drove above the speed limit to get to Eugene fast, yet we arrived a few minutes after the baby was born. Serena’s labor was short, just like mine had been. They named her Margaret after me, we call her Maggie.
Before she was born I wrote a series of letters to her, in them I was anticipating the big day she would be born. The first one was written in September. “Friday night your great-grandma, my mom, and I were looking through an old chest of hers. In it we found baby clothes and a package of rubberized –moisture-proof lap pads in pastel yellow and blue. We also found a little white onesie; she gave it to me because I’m going to be a grandma soon. She said something like, “Delight in those little things, while you are waiting for your baby granddaughters’ arrival.”
The letter went on to say, “The trouble with the little onesie is that it is stained. Mothers used to give babies vitamin drops. The babies wisely spit them out because of the yucky taste. Even the best mothers would resort to elaborate methods to trick the baby into swallowing the smelly liquid. Serena, Doug and countless other babies bore the stains of: baby-verses-vitamin drops, battle. I brought the onesie home and began the chore of getting the stain out. I worked with bleach, bleach with boiling water, I tried pure lye soap and then ammonia mixed in boiling water. I wondered what vitamin drops might do to the inside of a baby's tummy if the stain was so stubborn?”
There are no words to explain the wonder of a newborn baby. Skin as soft as dew, tiny fingers and toes and breath as fresh as spring. Maggie had fuzzy black hair and her eyes cornflower blue. I have heard it is a wondrous thing when we are loved by someone so fresh from God. Which she was.
I was there for a week to help Serena with all the new things. We cooked together, I ran errands, did laundry and I got a lot of turns to hold my wonderful new grandbaby. I did whatever I could do to help Serena get the extra rest she needed with a newborn who nursed many times, day and night. One thing did make me sad, when I gave Maggie a bath, I didn’t check the water temperature well enough and she immediately cried out. Later, Serena and I noticed she had a “warm body,” from the bath water that was too warm for any baby. The overarching love for Maggie was the best part of that week. She rewarded me with smiles, cuddles, and the contentment of falling asleep in my arms. When the week was over I was tearful on my drive home; how could I leave the baby who had won my heart? I promised myself that I would drive to Eugene every week so she would know her grandma and I could watch her grow.
Right after I got home we heard from a friend that worked at the city planning department that plans were being made to demolish the building where we had our hair salon. The owners hadn’t planned to tell us ahead of time; so we were fortunate to find out before we were evicted. That evening we drove to Medford to talk to the property manager. I suffered a terrible migraine from the stress of possibly being evicted. I put the car seat back so I could be in an incline position with a cloth over my eyes to protect them from the glare of the car's headlights. Our conversation with the property manager confirmed what we had heard. We went home wondering what to do with our predicament.
The timeline was short before they started their project so Dave and I drove all around Roseburg looking for a suitable place where we could move our business. We didn’t find anything suitable so my entrepreneur husband who thinks outside the box contacted the property manager to see if we could buy the building. We decided buying the building would be our best move ,but it was still scary for me.
After we negotiated the sales agreement with the land developer the plan to move the building was developed. The building was “L” shaped, it had to be cut in half. One half was where the salon was and the other half a flower shop. Then, each section would be moved one at a time up a hill to the empty lot. We’d be closed for business hopefully in less than a week. It was tremendously stressful. So much so, that even a glare of light off a car window could bring on a migraine headache for both Dave and I.
The rest of the year was a blur because we had so much going on. I continued going to Eugene to see Serena and Maggie every Wednesday, kept up my responsibilities at home, plus I worked at the salon and usually stopped at Dad and mom’s house after work to see how I could help them. Dad was smoking inside the house, he didn’t try to hide it like he did when I was a kid. Usually when I left their house I had a migraine from the cigarette smoke-filled house. With my migraines and Dave’s, we were quite a pair.
Sixteen months after Maggie was born, Serena was pregnant and an ultrasound confirmed that it was a girl. I worked on making my traditional baby blanket on my day off Wednesday and Thursday and Friday after work. Since I was so overwhelmed with life, it might have been better use of my time to buy something at Emporium’s twenty-five percent off sale and have it wrapped as a gift. Instead, I made it myself. Afterward, I worried about giving my handmade gift. I was good at second-guessing myself.
In January I wrote her a letter. “I want you to know that I’ve been thinking about you. At church a few weeks ago I passed two little girls on the stairway to our church sanctuary. They were preschool-age and having fun with their parents. Then I noticed as the oldest one danced by that she was wearing pink, glittery shoes. I think it was the shoes that made her dance. I commented to her about them something like “Where did you get those beautiful shoes?” She said with the biggest smile, “My grandma!” It made my heart dance. I thought what a fun thing for a grandma to buy. In the letter I wrote, “I don’t know if we’ll ever see glitter shoes like hers but when we are out shopping together if we saw them I would buy sparkly shoes just for fun you and I could dance!”
Serena’s labor was quick, just like before, but this time we got there before Lolo was born. Lolo had red, curly hair that turned auburn when she got older, pretty brown eyes and cupid-like lips, she was so adorable.
Will and I saw two nurses carry the baby to a side room, she was blue and thankfully they were able to resuscitate her. Serena was being attended to so she wasn’t aware there was a problem. We had assumed the birth was going to be easy but she came out of the birth canal so fast she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.
Will and Serena stayed at the hospital an extra night to keep a close watch on Lolo. I stayed at their house with Maggie who was really fussy. I went to the nursery time after time to pat her on her back and comfort her so she would go back to sleep but just as I was ready to leave the room she cried again. When morning finally came I decided it was probably due to the fact she had a cold and was taking cough syrup. It had enough stimulants in it to disturb her sleep and mine.
Life was a balancing act. I was pretty good at it, but I was beginning to wear down.
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