Alexis was born in March 1991. Her father, my son Joseph, was 20 years old. I don't know very much about Alexis's mother. I was told that she was older than my son. I believe she was 21. Her name was Julie. Joseph and Julie were never married. At the time of Alexis's birth I believe they had known each other barely ten months. They lived in a hostel (both had become "street kids") until just before she was born, and had only recently moved into a very nice government subsidized apartment.
Prior to Alexis's birth, her mother spoke of selling her baby to a doctor or lawyer. She toyed with the ideas of adoption and abortion, however was too afraid of my son to do more than toy with the ideas. My son, Joseph, who had a history of violence as well as mental and emotional problems, was physically abusive to Julie. He had grown up without a father, and insisted his child would have one. However, because of his history and anger issues, I often attempted to encourage Julie to leave. I took her under my wing (and into my home) several times for what often just seemed like a warm meal, a jug of milk, and a few hours company, before she would decide to go home to him again. I did convince her to go to a shelter a few times both before and after Alexis was born, but it never lasted more than a few hours.
I was with Julie throughout her difficult labour and delivery. When Alexis was born, the neonatal pediatrician was called immediately. The cord had been wrapped around the baby's neck and she was just barely breathing on her own. Her APGAR was 4 out of 10. They worked on her for quite awhile, and sent her up to special care for the night. When the nurses put the baby in Julie's arms that first time, she just handed her to me. She did not seem to bond with the baby, but I put it down to exhaustion from her very long labour.
I had a difficult time myself with letting go of this tiny, blue eyed, curly haired little red head! She was so small and sweet, and her breathing was so laboured that I was afraid to entrust her care to anyone! I just wanted to just grab her and run, knowing what a difficult life would be awaiting her. But I had no choice! It helped to know that the Children's Aid would be involved, as well as a special social worker at a program that I had talked Julie into attending for young unwed parents.
Joseph had finally managed to arrive just before we moved Julie into the delivery room. (He apparantly had slept through the repeated telephone calls, taxi drivers buzzing, and neighbours pounding on the door.) He seemed pretty low key through the remaining labour and delivery process. However, as soon as Julie was transferred from the labour room, he began to take control. It is difficult to explain how he was. We who knew him well could sense it though. The next day when I went to visit, he held the baby the entire time I was there (about 3 hours). They did not swaddle the baby or hold her in their arms close to their hearts. Julie did not hold her until just before I left and Joseph just propped her head with one hand and held her on his knees. When I was getting ready to leave, the nurse came in and begged Julie to try feeding the baby again. After some discussion, she agreed. She breast fed for about one minute on each side, and insisted she was done. This seemed to set the pace for the next 17 months. |
