Matt slammed down the phone on his desk. "Damn it all!" he exclaimed. It was always frustrating to deal with Catherine Hart, Maddie's mother, and today was no different. Although she had known Maddie was close to her due date, she had flown to Paris three days earlier. Calling her hotel, Matt had learned that Catherine was out shopping. Finally he decided to send a telegram. "Baby Girl Wheeler born 7-11-56 wt 6 lb 10 oz Stop. Maddie critically ill Stop Come home Stop."

Next, he called Maddie's sister, Natalie.

"My God, Matthew! Dirk and I will be on the next train from Boston, just as soon as I can reach him. I'll arrange to stay at the Plaza tonight, and then we can stay with you for awhile. You shouldn't be facing this alone." Natalie hung up without waiting for him to respond.

Matt liked Natalie, but she tended to be bossy. Two years older than Maddie, she frequently gave her younger sister the benefit of her experience, especially in childrearing. As non-parents, Matt and Maddie hadn't liked to argue with her, but they both felt that Natalie's two-year-old son, Ben, was spoiled and received no discipline. It should be an experience having them here. He buried his head in his hands. It would be impossible to concentrate on business today; he asked his efficient secretary to tell all callers that he had been called out of the country on urgent business and would be gone for several weeks.

***********************

Catherine Hart arrived in New York two days after Matt's telegram reached her. She immediately began to harass him to hire a nurse for the baby, and tried to have Dr. Harris replaced with her own doctor, a well-known Boston specialist. Fortunately, in Matt's opinion, the specialist declined to come to New York and interfere in another doctor's case.

Natalie and her son were ensconced in the Wheeler's comfortable apartment the day after she arrived in New York. Her husband, Dirk was an active, fun-loving fellow, who loved nothing better than a practical joke. The present situation didn't speak to his strengths, and within 48 hours he and Matt were barely on speaking terms. It was a relief to everyone when he was gone on a new job assignment. Matt wished that Natalie and her rambunctious son would go home, too, but it seemed ungrateful to complain, when she had come to offer him help and support. He only wished he could see some signs that she was actually helping.

Days passed and Matt's life fell into a pattern. He visited Maddie's room early in the morning, and then went to the nursery to see his daughter. He had begun to call her "Honey" as it felt strange and awkward to continue to call her "Baby". Miss Reid had been present on the past three days to escort him to a room. He felt professional in his hand washing technique, and had begun to feel comfortable holding, feeding, and burping the infant, who seemed to have a calm temperament. Several times he would have sworn she smiled at him, but Miss Reid assured him that this was merely a sign of gas. Diaper changing was not a skill he felt anxious to learn, however, and he always handed the baby back to the nurse if it seemed time for such a thing. After the feeding, he would go to his office for a brief time, pretending to work. In reality, he paced the floor, wondering how in the world he was going to cope. Surely, they would make him bring Honey home in a few more days.

 

July 16, 1956

On the fifth day, Miss Reid brought him forms to fill out for the baby's birth certificate. "It's state law, Mr. Wheeler; the baby can't leave the hospital without a name. In fact, we're supposed to have the certificate filled out within 72 hours. I know you wanted to name her together with your wife. Did you have any names picked out?"

"Um, yes, we had discussed some names. But I want to name my Honey after her mother. She's not out of the woods yet and if anything happened -- " he couldn't say the words. But Miss Reid seemed to understand how he felt. She continued filling out the form as Matt fed and burped his daughter.

***********************

Within 72 hours, Maddie had stopped bleeding, and the doctors decided her blood volume had been replaced. By the fifth day, the purplish blotches were beginning to fade and turn ugly shades of brown, yellow and green. However, she was very weak and restless. Between her incision, gas pain, and breast engorgement, she was absolutely miserable. The third day after giving birth, her milk came in. Ice packs applied by the nurses ended up underneath her as often as on her chest. Her hips were sore and stiff from injections of pain medication and penicillin; both arms were bruised and tender from IV sticks. Groggy and sedated from medication, feverish from breast engorgement, she tossed and turned in vain attempts to get more comfortable. The tube was out of her nose, although she was still unable to have anything by mouth except Jell-O, broth, and tea, and the nurses forced her to get up and walk around the unit several times daily to prevent pneumonia and blood clots in her legs. The gurgle and hiss of oxygen continued, along with the clammy atmosphere inside the tent, which required frequent gown and bed changes. Day and night, she was awakened to have her temperature and blood pressure taken, to turn, and to have her catheter emptied. In addition, she could hear every sound from the other patients and nurses. Even in the middle of the night, the nurses talked and moved their chairs noisily; they banged the metal charts while putting them away; they stamped pages in the charts with a noisy machine. By the sixth day, Maddie was wide awake at one a.m. She had no idea if it was day or night. She couldn't remember when she had seen her husband last, although it had been earlier that evening. She wasn't completely sure where she was, although it was true that the white-uniformed women hovering over her bed looked like pictures she had seen of hospital nurses.

"Mrs. Wheeler, it's time for your medicine," one of them said now in a wheedling tone of voice.

"Medicine? I don't need any medicine. I just need to go home. I have to get my nursery ready. I'm going to have a baby soon." She placed a protective hand over her belly, which was slightly distended from gas.

"Mrs. Wheeler, you've had your baby. You've been very ill, but you're getting better now. Please take your medicine, so you can go home soon." The nurse smiled sweetly as she held a hypodermic syringe behind her back.

"Are you sure?" Suddenly Maddie felt less confident. Maybe they were right. Surely she had been larger than this yesterday -- or whenever it had been. She realized she had no idea what time or even what day it was. Meekly, she lay down and allowed herself to be stuck again.

 

July 17, 1956

The next morning, Dr. Harris was accosted by Maddie's nurse. "Mrs. Wheeler has been disoriented for the past couple of days. I think she's getting "hospitalitis" -- she's losing track of time and day, even of where she is. Last night she was very uncooperative with the staff."

"I see. I think we can move her to a regular room today, since all of her vital signs are stable. Perhaps she will get more rest and recover faster away from this noisy environment."

He entered Maddie's cubicle and went to her side. She stared at him with wild, frightened eyes, and trembled when he reached out to check her pulse.

"Mrs. Wheeler, how would you like to move to a private room?" he asked.

"Where am I now? And who are you?" she responded. "I want to go home. I need to get ready for my baby."

Dr. Harris sighed and sat down in the chair next to her bed. "Mrs. Wheeler, you are in the hospital. You had your baby six days ago. Because of complications, we had to take the baby by Caesarean section. You hemorrhaged and we finally had to do a hysterectomy. You have been very ill, but you're much better now. Now you just need to rest and get your strength back, so you can go home with your husband and baby."

He sat and waited for this explanation to sink in. He had often heard that patients who were critically ill had trouble remembering what had happened to them, even when they weren't unconscious. It was also common for hospitalized patients to lose track of time because of sleep deprivation. He himself had not seen this phenomenon before, since he mainly dealt with healthy young women who were in the hospital to have a baby, and went home in a week or two. He had explained several times to Maddie what had happened, but she hadn't retained the information.

"I had my baby?" She repeated the words in a wondering tone. "What is it?"

"You have a beautiful daughter. She weighed six pounds, ten ounces."

"What's her name?"

"Your husband named her Madeleine Grace. He was terribly worried about you and wanted to name her after her mother."

"Oh. We had some different names picked out. I suppose it's all right, but it might be confusing with two Madeleines in the house." She gave him a tiny smile and Dr. Harris saw the first sign of a return of the vivacious Madeleine Wheeler he had met in his office.