Thursday, October 23, 2025

The Importance of Holding A Baby

When I was born in 1962 my mother listened to the doctors for only a week, then took matters into her own hands. Not waiting for Dad to pick her up, she simply walked out of the hospital and got into a taxi holding infant me and a suitcase, still wearing a nightgown and robe.

The doctors didn't want her to go. 

When I was born I weighed 5 lbs. 8 oz. and I was almost a month late being born. Mom had been on bedrest for the entire pregnancy, bleeding the entire time. The doctors told her I'd likely be another  miscarriage. She ignored them. 

Her first child, a son, was a miscarriage at 5 months. She and Dad were devastated. They were young and healthy and wanted children. 

My brother was born healthy two years later but Mom contracted a kidney infection and almost died. 

My mother loved to tell the story of how she saved my life after I was born.  I survived the very difficult pregnancy. I survived a complicated birth, after the doctor unwrapped the cord from around my neck. When I was born scrawny the doctors put me into a newish invention, the incubator, and kept me in there. 

For two days, Mom was told to rest and leave me in the incubator so I could gain weight. The nurses were told not to bring me to Mom. She had no milk so I was a formula baby. On the third day she put on a robe and walked to the nursery. She held me as long as she was allowed, and then was told she HAD to go back to her room. After about 6 days, frustrated with not getting enough time with me, Mom told them to go to Hell, and took me out of that hospital. I had lost weight and weighed less than 5 lbs at that point. 

I was so tiny, regular diapers and baby clothes didn't fit me. My aunt went to Woolworth's and bought doll clothes, and I wore those for a while. Preemie diapers and baby clothes didn't exist yet because most premature babies died. 

When she got home, Mom faced a bad situation. My grandmother, who had been staying at the house for weeks helping with my 3 year old brother, left. She was very pessimistic about my chances for survival. 

"You and Tony are still young. You'll have other children," Memaw said. She was one of 13 children, and 2 had died in infancy. 

Mom was furious. She had a lot of trouble getting pregnant and staying pregnant. She decided to prove her mother WRONG. 

A game plan was drawn up. Mom and Dad took turns holding me, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Neighbors, friends, and family members helped. Many thought my parents were utterly CRAZY. Well-meaning older folks told them I would grow up to be horribly spoiled from all that holding. Baby "experts" in the early 20th century actually told parents not to be too affectionate with babies and small children. 

Mom and Dad ignored them and held me. I was only put down for diaper changes and baths. 

Nobody told Mom to do "skin to skin" holding, which is now recognized as being important. 

Mom just instinctively felt like if I was held and loved on consistently, I wouldn't die. I wouldn't "fail to thrive." 

It wasn't easy. In those days, glass baby bottles had to be sterilized between feedings. I would only take a couple of ounces of formula at a time. The recipe for making formula was not simple or easy. My father (who didn't know how to cook) nonetheless learned it, and made it. Leftover formula had to be discarded, they were told. 

Diapers were all made of cloth and had to be hand washed and line dried. 

The dog (3 years old then) got the leftover baby formula. The dog gained weight and grew even bigger. The vet was astonished.

After about three months, I had put on some weight and filled out, and I started to look like a normal baby. They transitioned me to a more normal schedule. 

I am alive today because my mother ignored the doctors and did what she thought was best for her baby.  [photos below illustrated how pitiful I looked at first and how much better I looked a few months later.]

NOTE: After her initial skepticism regarding my survival, my maternal grandmother became an integral part of my life and we developed a very close and loving bond. My dad's mother had died, so I only had my memaw, and I adored her and my grandfather.  


 

 


 

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