Unfortunate Accident

I was gleeful on Friday morning. We had a brand new grandson. Jackie seemed tired but good. Baby Hal was healthy and Aron would recover from his cold and sore throat. David and I were there to help as needed. We had decided to stroll the city a little bit before we went over to NYU Medical Center's 13th floor maternity unit. I was joking with my husband as I tripped over a raised manhole cover in the street. While I fell to the pavement, I remember knowing that I did something to my ankle. But maybe it was just a sprain and hopefully the traffic light would remain red. "Maybe I can walk it off." I thought. I hobbled back to our car.

We drove to NYU Emergency. On Christmas Eve day it was eerily quiet there. I was taken in a wheelchair to see a triage nurse. Soon the patchwork of New York City life crowded in around us. A young man flanked by two police officers came in under arrest on a domestic violence charge. He needed to be sedated. His wife was hysterical because she didn't want his name published, "It will kill his 12 year-old son!" She pleaded. Ambulances arrived with a Chasidic rabbi and his wife who preferred to be addressed as "Rebbetzin". Both were carried in on stretchers. They were complaining about stomach pains. A young woman wandered in clutching her hand that was wrapped in a dishcloth. She had sliced her skin while preparing a holiday fruit bowl.

My ankle continued to throb, The resident who examined me thought it could be a sprain, a grade 3 sprain but still a sprain. I was wheeled into radiology. The technician manipulated my leg for many different views. The verdict didn't take long, I had fractured my ankle. While I was waiting for an air splint and crutches, I texted Jackie. It seemed ridiculous. She was upstairs recovering from labor followed by a c section and her mother-in-law was downstairs being measured for crutches, She encouraged me to come up to her hospital room and keep her company.

She was pumping milk while Hal was being treated under the lights for jaundice. In between naps we talked about babies, breastfeeding, swaddling and layers of clothing, Meanwhile Aron was at home trying to get rid of his cough and David was helping him complete the finishing touches in the nursery. A nurse brought Jackie and me cups of tea and plates of cookies. It looked like Hal would be staying for Christmas so his treatment could be completed and Jackie was entitled to a fourth night in the hospital.

The next day, David and I helped bring all of them home. I crutched up two flights but couldn't do much to settle them in. "It's comforting just to have you here." Jackie told me. She rested a sleeping Hal in my lap. He smelled like fresh air and felt so soft.

The sixth worst blizzard in New York history blanketed the city on Sunday and Monday. I was stuck indoors as I could not negotiate deep snow and icy pathways. I had hoped to cook and do laundry for the new family. But Jackie points out that she can have food delivered to their door and send out their laundry. I was reassuringly with her for those first precious days.

Hal's Birthday

Dear Hal,

Before dawn on the day you were born, I was awake and standing at my bedroom window watching the light cast by the lunar eclipse. It was also the winter solstice. Little did I know that your daddy would be phoning later in the day to tell me it was time for you to come. Your mommy and daddy were already at the hospital. I immediately called Grandpa and asked him to hustle home. We would soon be driving to New York. I didn't even have to pack my suitcase. I was so excited to welcome you that I had been ready for weeks. First I checked with Uncle Steve and Aunt Jean to find out if we could stay with them. With their usual open arms, they insisted that we visit.

Tuesday, December 21st was gorgeously sunny with bright blue skies. The sun had already set when Grandpa and I arrived at NYU Medical Center at 6:30 p.m. You came into the world at 6:57 p.m. You weighed 7 pounds, 10 ounces and were 22 inches long. Your daddy was thrilled to come into the waiting room and tell Grandpa and me about you. We went into the recovery room to see you and your mommy. Your mommy was a little tired but still her beautiful self. She was cuddling you, skin to skin. Your daddy was rubbing your head and your soft cheeks. He told us your name, Hal Akiva, a great name for a wonderful boy. You had lots of dark brown hair. Your deep blue eyes were wide open as you looked around, taking in your new world. How alert you were. I cannot wait to hug you again.

My love always,
Grandma