At 7:45AM on Wednesday, July 5th, the forms had been signed, the IV applied, and in less than one hour our second daughter was scheduled to arrive. While I sat wrapped in warm blankets, Logan read aloud from the journal of Mary Stenger, recounting tales of her own mother, Logan’s great-great-grandmother, Susan McCoy.
Harold was born in December. Had him at home (sod house) with a midwife. Afterbirth didn’t come and Grandpa rode a horse to Elsie (27 miles) to get a doctor…Susan was holding Harold and saw a rattlesnake in the rafters.
128 years later in the comfort of a sterilized delivery room in a newly renovated hospital with the assistance of two doctors, one anesthesiologist, and two nurses, Prairie Susan Pribbeno was born. Despite these conveniences, I was worried. We had learned I was pregnant just six months after radiation treatment for thyroid cancer. I agonized silently for nine months over the medications I was required to take and the effects my damaged body had on her growing one.
At 8:22AM, the only thing I could say was, “Is she ok?” Although we never really talked about it, Logan knew what I meant. We had both held fear close to our hearts so he just said, simply, “Yes, she’s strong.” 7.1 pounds and 20 inches of strength and beauty, to be specific.
She may not have been born in a sod house with rattlesnakes in the rafters but, so far, I believe she has more than lived up to the gritty determination of her namesake.