By Georgia

On the morning of January 11, 1972, the countdown began. We had our neighbor come over to stay with our daughter, Michele, while Sandy rushed me to the hospital. When we arrived, my doctor happened to be there. He checked me over, calmly stated that I wasn’t ready yet, and told us we should just go home!

Well, I threw the biggest tantrum of my life. I looked right at him and said, "I am not leaving here without my baby in my arms, and you can’t make me leave!!!" Realizing he wasn't going to win that argument right then, he decided to head back to his private office to see his regular patients. But the joke was on him. By the exact time he walked through his office doors, there was already a message waiting for him: Turn around and get back to the hospital immediately, she is ready to deliver!

Back in 1972, hospital rules were rigid. Husbands were absolutely not allowed to be with their wives during childbirth. So, while Sandy was relegated to pacing the tile in the waiting room, I was in a labor room alongside several other women. I had made the doctor promise me beforehand that I could watch the delivery this time, since I hadn't been able to see Michele's birth.

Needless to say, the doctor was not thrilled about having to rush back. As he was frantically pushing my gurney into the delivery room, I heard him shout to the staff, "Get the General!" In my pain-induced, delirious state, I didn't think of medicine—I thought a literal General from the military was marching in to inspect the birth!

When I finally woke up later, I was absolutely furious. There was no military officer, and I hadn't seen a thing. He had put me under general anesthesia, and I had missed seeing my baby's birth all over again! But despite the chaos and the anesthesia, our beautiful son, Scott, had safely arrived.

by Sandy

It was an abssolutely grueling final stretch for Georgia, who endured a cracking pelvic bone and a sixty-pound weight gain while carrying him. When the day finally arrived, the drama only escalated. We rushed to the hospital, leaving Michele with the neighbor, only to have the doctor take one look and try to send a deeply uncomfortable Georgia right back home. But my wife is a fighter. She threw a completely justified, fierce tantrum right there in the hospital, flat-out refusing to leave until she was admitted—and thank God she did.

The delivery itself was chaotic, painful, and deeply frustrating, compounded by old-school hospital rules that forced me to sit in the waiting room while Georgia endured the birth under general anesthesia. I’ll never know how she found the grit to make it to that January 11th delivery, but the victory came at a high price. Scott was a heavyweight—a whopping 9 pounds and 24 inches long—and the doctor had to force him out. In doing so, it pushed Georgia’s tailbone back so far it broke, and she suffered torn abdominal muscles. 

Georgia added, 

"The next day when I got out of bed, I woke up on the floor, with a nurse putting smelling salts under my nose! Every time I got out of bed and put any pressure on my legs, I would pass out and wake up with the smelling salts under my nose. Then I heard the nurses talking outside my room saying I might never walk again."

But when the dust finally settled that morning in January, all the frustration melted away. The "Recon" this time was instant. When the nurse brought him to me, there was no doubt—he was a "mini-Sandy," fair-skinned and Towheaded. Our family of four was officially complete. Despite the absolute hell it took to get him here, and the long road of healing Mommy had ahead with the eventual help of an orthopedic specialist, one look at that little "Towhead" made it abundantly clear that he was worth every single second.

Rushing home to our family was a high priority of every work day. 

Scott taking his first steps was one of those massive milestone events. Once he began, he just kept going and going. 

He loved romping from the couch, to a chair, to Mommy, to Daddy, to Michele—and boom! He'd flop right on his butt.

As the years went by, that little heavyweight grew into a man with a contagious laugh and a smile that could light up any room. He was the perfect addition to our "Tony from Sony" era.