| Biographical Non-Fiction posted August 11, 2013 | Chapters: |
...11 12 -13- 14... 
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A new twist in my life as a young married woman
A chapter in the book Chasing the Elusive Dream
Surprise! Surprise!
by BethShelby
"She is precious. I love babies. Oh, I do hope you'll let me keep her. She would be just like my own grandchild."
Those were welcome words from the kind-looking gray-haired lady who I was interviewing as a potential baby-sitter for my eight-month old daughter. Mrs. Burns' brick home was comfortably furnished and orderly. Her neighborhood was in a neatly kept older section of the city. She was already keeping her grandson, who was about Carol's age. When she held out her arms, Carol went to her willingly. It seemed like the perfect solution. My instincts were right, and she turned out to be a great choice during the time I worked for the newspaper.
My first day on the job, I was surprised to find so many young people working there. Many of the men were ad salesmen. There must have been twenty or thirty girls my age or younger, doing various jobs.
One girl, named Frances, whispered, "Watch out for Mr. Scott. He loves to sneak up behind us and pinch our bottoms."
Okay, at least this time, I'd been forewarned about the proverbial 'wolf in sheep's clothing'. I'd make sure to look over my shoulder. Mr. Scott was the owner. He had a huge plush office and a secretary who looked as though butt pinching wasn't something she really minded. She had a nicely rounded bottom and wore short, tight skirts to show it off.
My art table was in a large room with six other girls, who were also part of the layout staff. Most of the work involved cutting line art from clip books and deciding the best placement on the page for the art, the type, and other elements. Sometimes original art was used, depending on what the customer was willing to pay. We were required to make proofs and get customer approval before the ads ran. The work wasn't hard, but it was stressful, because everything had to be completed in time to meet the press deadlines.
In school, my major had been fine art rather than commercial, so each job I'd had, no matter how short lived, was a new learning experience. This one went along great for several months, until, to everyone's surprise, we were all called up front for a meeting.
"I know this will shock most of you," Mr. Scott told us. "Since we've been on the scene, we've operated in the red. For seven years, we could write off our losses on income taxes. Uncle Sam won't let us continue to do that. We've had a good run, but today The State Times will issue its final edition. All of you will be given two weeks severance pay and any vacation time you may have coming. It's been fun, and I'm sorry it has to end. If anyone needs references, or if I can help you in any way, let me know."
Most of the faces around me held expressions of shocked disbelief. I thought briefly about the television job I'd given up. In the back of my mind, I remembered the station manager warning me when I gave notice that the newspaper was on its last leg. I'd taken a chance and made another bad decision, or maybe not. I might have gone insane by now, if I'd stayed in that madhouse. I wondered where I go from here.
Where I went was back home. Mrs. Burns seemed heartbroken to lose Carol. During the next few months, I picked up some freelance artwork to do at home, and for a six-week stretch, I took a temporary job putting a phone directory together. Then suddenly, Carol became fretful and started running a temperature.
Overly alarmed since we'd lost our first child, we rushed her in to the clinic, and she was diagnosed with red measles. The vaccine against this dreaded childhood disease was at least a year away from development. Carol was miserable. Evan and I took turns walking the floor with her at night, as she fretted and cried. Thankfully, she recovered with no lasting side effects.
We had not talked about having another child, but somewhere along the way, Evan and I became careless. My obstetrician confirmed I was pregnant once again. "Sounds like the perfect excuse to stay home, and let me be the sole breadwinner," my husband told me. "I think we can afford it for a while."
After giving it some thought, I was happy to stay home with Carol. I wasn't upset about the pregnancy either. I'd been an only child, and I had hated not having a sibling. Carol would have a brother or sister near her age, so this was a good thing. I enjoyed the next few months at home. Carol was at a cute age. She was toddling and starting to talk. The baby would be due around Christmas. There would be time to think about whether or not I wanted to go back to work again in the spring.
I tried to prepare Carol for the new family addition. She was talking pretty well by this time, and she seemed to understand.
"What would you like us to have, Carol? A baby brother, or a baby sister?"
"Bro 'n sisser."
"No, which one? A boy or a girl?
"Gull 'n boy." I want gull 'n boy."
In the middle of November when I went in for my checkup, and my regular doctor was out. I was disappointed by having to be examined by a doctor I didn't know. When he listened to my stomach, he said. "Hmm..., there is something going on here. I think we need to do an X-ray to see if we can confirm, what I suspect."
"What's wrong? Is something wrong with my baby?"
"Well, it's possible, we may be talking babies. Let's look at an x-ray and see."
This was years before ultrasound, and often low-exposure x-rays were used in the last months before delivery.
When the x-ray confirmed his suspicion, I spaced out. It's a wonder, I survived to get back home. I couldn't believe I was having twins. Carol would only be twenty-two months old when they were due. I went through three red lights and swerved all over the road. I could hardly wait to get home and call Evan.
"Guess what?" I shouted into the phone. "We're having twins!"
"Are you serious? You're joking, aren't you? How are we going to handle three babies?"
"Very carefully."
Earlier in the year, Evan's sister had given birth to twin preemies. Born at seven months, they weighed only two pounds. Only one of them survived. Because of her experience, we were concerned, but my babies went full term. I was having trouble getting out of a chair, and was waddling like a duck.
The doctor put the delivery date at December 26, but he said twins usually come a little early. My greatest desire was to hurry and deliver these babies and be back home before Christmas. I was convinced if I gained another pound I might spontaneously combust. On the sixteenth of December, I spent most of the day jogging circles around our living room. I figured these kids had been in the oven long enough to be well done. One side of my abdomen seemed to be in constant motion while the other side barely moved.
On December 17th, Carol got her wish for both a boy and a girl. Christi weighed 6 lbs, 9 ozs and Donald weighted 6 lbs, 12 ozs. Don won the race by six minutes. I could tell right away, he had been the active one. Christi just wanted to sleep. We were happy. Life would never be the same again. We had no clue about what interesting times we would experience while raising our growing family.
"She is precious. I love babies. Oh, I do hope you'll let me keep her. She would be just like my own grandchild."
Those were welcome words from the kind-looking gray-haired lady who I was interviewing as a potential baby-sitter for my eight-month old daughter. Mrs. Burns' brick home was comfortably furnished and orderly. Her neighborhood was in a neatly kept older section of the city. She was already keeping her grandson, who was about Carol's age. When she held out her arms, Carol went to her willingly. It seemed like the perfect solution. My instincts were right, and she turned out to be a great choice during the time I worked for the newspaper.
My first day on the job, I was surprised to find so many young people working there. Many of the men were ad salesmen. There must have been twenty or thirty girls my age or younger, doing various jobs.
One girl, named Frances, whispered, "Watch out for Mr. Scott. He loves to sneak up behind us and pinch our bottoms."
Okay, at least this time, I'd been forewarned about the proverbial 'wolf in sheep's clothing'. I'd make sure to look over my shoulder. Mr. Scott was the owner. He had a huge plush office and a secretary who looked as though butt pinching wasn't something she really minded. She had a nicely rounded bottom and wore short, tight skirts to show it off.
My art table was in a large room with six other girls, who were also part of the layout staff. Most of the work involved cutting line art from clip books and deciding the best placement on the page for the art, the type, and other elements. Sometimes original art was used, depending on what the customer was willing to pay. We were required to make proofs and get customer approval before the ads ran. The work wasn't hard, but it was stressful, because everything had to be completed in time to meet the press deadlines.
In school, my major had been fine art rather than commercial, so each job I'd had, no matter how short lived, was a new learning experience. This one went along great for several months, until, to everyone's surprise, we were all called up front for a meeting.
"I know this will shock most of you," Mr. Scott told us. "Since we've been on the scene, we've operated in the red. For seven years, we could write off our losses on income taxes. Uncle Sam won't let us continue to do that. We've had a good run, but today The State Times will issue its final edition. All of you will be given two weeks severance pay and any vacation time you may have coming. It's been fun, and I'm sorry it has to end. If anyone needs references, or if I can help you in any way, let me know."
Most of the faces around me held expressions of shocked disbelief. I thought briefly about the television job I'd given up. In the back of my mind, I remembered the station manager warning me when I gave notice that the newspaper was on its last leg. I'd taken a chance and made another bad decision, or maybe not. I might have gone insane by now, if I'd stayed in that madhouse. I wondered where I go from here.
Where I went was back home. Mrs. Burns seemed heartbroken to lose Carol. During the next few months, I picked up some freelance artwork to do at home, and for a six-week stretch, I took a temporary job putting a phone directory together. Then suddenly, Carol became fretful and started running a temperature.
Overly alarmed since we'd lost our first child, we rushed her in to the clinic, and she was diagnosed with red measles. The vaccine against this dreaded childhood disease was at least a year away from development. Carol was miserable. Evan and I took turns walking the floor with her at night, as she fretted and cried. Thankfully, she recovered with no lasting side effects.
We had not talked about having another child, but somewhere along the way, Evan and I became careless. My obstetrician confirmed I was pregnant once again. "Sounds like the perfect excuse to stay home, and let me be the sole breadwinner," my husband told me. "I think we can afford it for a while."
After giving it some thought, I was happy to stay home with Carol. I wasn't upset about the pregnancy either. I'd been an only child, and I had hated not having a sibling. Carol would have a brother or sister near her age, so this was a good thing. I enjoyed the next few months at home. Carol was at a cute age. She was toddling and starting to talk. The baby would be due around Christmas. There would be time to think about whether or not I wanted to go back to work again in the spring.
I tried to prepare Carol for the new family addition. She was talking pretty well by this time, and she seemed to understand.
"What would you like us to have, Carol? A baby brother, or a baby sister?"
"Bro 'n sisser."
"No, which one? A boy or a girl?
"Gull 'n boy." I want gull 'n boy."
In the middle of November when I went in for my checkup, and my regular doctor was out. I was disappointed by having to be examined by a doctor I didn't know. When he listened to my stomach, he said. "Hmm..., there is something going on here. I think we need to do an X-ray to see if we can confirm, what I suspect."
"What's wrong? Is something wrong with my baby?"
"Well, it's possible, we may be talking babies. Let's look at an x-ray and see."
This was years before ultrasound, and often low-exposure x-rays were used in the last months before delivery.
When the x-ray confirmed his suspicion, I spaced out. It's a wonder, I survived to get back home. I couldn't believe I was having twins. Carol would only be twenty-two months old when they were due. I went through three red lights and swerved all over the road. I could hardly wait to get home and call Evan.
"Guess what?" I shouted into the phone. "We're having twins!"
"Are you serious? You're joking, aren't you? How are we going to handle three babies?"
"Very carefully."
Earlier in the year, Evan's sister had given birth to twin preemies. Born at seven months, they weighed only two pounds. Only one of them survived. Because of her experience, we were concerned, but my babies went full term. I was having trouble getting out of a chair, and was waddling like a duck.
The doctor put the delivery date at December 26, but he said twins usually come a little early. My greatest desire was to hurry and deliver these babies and be back home before Christmas. I was convinced if I gained another pound I might spontaneously combust. On the sixteenth of December, I spent most of the day jogging circles around our living room. I figured these kids had been in the oven long enough to be well done. One side of my abdomen seemed to be in constant motion while the other side barely moved.
On December 17th, Carol got her wish for both a boy and a girl. Christi weighed 6 lbs, 9 ozs and Donald weighted 6 lbs, 12 ozs. Don won the race by six minutes. I could tell right away, he had been the active one. Christi just wanted to sleep. We were happy. Life would never be the same again. We had no clue about what interesting times we would experience while raising our growing family.
Those were welcome words from the kind-looking gray-haired lady who I was interviewing as a potential baby-sitter for my eight-month old daughter. Mrs. Burns' brick home was comfortably furnished and orderly. Her neighborhood was in a neatly kept older section of the city. She was already keeping her grandson, who was about Carol's age. When she held out her arms, Carol went to her willingly. It seemed like the perfect solution. My instincts were right, and she turned out to be a great choice during the time I worked for the newspaper.
My first day on the job, I was surprised to find so many young people working there. Many of the men were ad salesmen. There must have been twenty or thirty girls my age or younger, doing various jobs.
One girl, named Frances, whispered, "Watch out for Mr. Scott. He loves to sneak up behind us and pinch our bottoms."
Okay, at least this time, I'd been forewarned about the proverbial 'wolf in sheep's clothing'. I'd make sure to look over my shoulder. Mr. Scott was the owner. He had a huge plush office and a secretary who looked as though butt pinching wasn't something she really minded. She had a nicely rounded bottom and wore short, tight skirts to show it off.
My art table was in a large room with six other girls, who were also part of the layout staff. Most of the work involved cutting line art from clip books and deciding the best placement on the page for the art, the type, and other elements. Sometimes original art was used, depending on what the customer was willing to pay. We were required to make proofs and get customer approval before the ads ran. The work wasn't hard, but it was stressful, because everything had to be completed in time to meet the press deadlines.
In school, my major had been fine art rather than commercial, so each job I'd had, no matter how short lived, was a new learning experience. This one went along great for several months, until, to everyone's surprise, we were all called up front for a meeting.
"I know this will shock most of you," Mr. Scott told us. "Since we've been on the scene, we've operated in the red. For seven years, we could write off our losses on income taxes. Uncle Sam won't let us continue to do that. We've had a good run, but today The State Times will issue its final edition. All of you will be given two weeks severance pay and any vacation time you may have coming. It's been fun, and I'm sorry it has to end. If anyone needs references, or if I can help you in any way, let me know."
Most of the faces around me held expressions of shocked disbelief. I thought briefly about the television job I'd given up. In the back of my mind, I remembered the station manager warning me when I gave notice that the newspaper was on its last leg. I'd taken a chance and made another bad decision, or maybe not. I might have gone insane by now, if I'd stayed in that madhouse. I wondered where I go from here.
Where I went was back home. Mrs. Burns seemed heartbroken to lose Carol. During the next few months, I picked up some freelance artwork to do at home, and for a six-week stretch, I took a temporary job putting a phone directory together. Then suddenly, Carol became fretful and started running a temperature.
Overly alarmed since we'd lost our first child, we rushed her in to the clinic, and she was diagnosed with red measles. The vaccine against this dreaded childhood disease was at least a year away from development. Carol was miserable. Evan and I took turns walking the floor with her at night, as she fretted and cried. Thankfully, she recovered with no lasting side effects.
We had not talked about having another child, but somewhere along the way, Evan and I became careless. My obstetrician confirmed I was pregnant once again. "Sounds like the perfect excuse to stay home, and let me be the sole breadwinner," my husband told me. "I think we can afford it for a while."
After giving it some thought, I was happy to stay home with Carol. I wasn't upset about the pregnancy either. I'd been an only child, and I had hated not having a sibling. Carol would have a brother or sister near her age, so this was a good thing. I enjoyed the next few months at home. Carol was at a cute age. She was toddling and starting to talk. The baby would be due around Christmas. There would be time to think about whether or not I wanted to go back to work again in the spring.
I tried to prepare Carol for the new family addition. She was talking pretty well by this time, and she seemed to understand.
"What would you like us to have, Carol? A baby brother, or a baby sister?"
"Bro 'n sisser."
"No, which one? A boy or a girl?
"Gull 'n boy." I want gull 'n boy."
In the middle of November when I went in for my checkup, and my regular doctor was out. I was disappointed by having to be examined by a doctor I didn't know. When he listened to my stomach, he said. "Hmm..., there is something going on here. I think we need to do an X-ray to see if we can confirm, what I suspect."
"What's wrong? Is something wrong with my baby?"
"Well, it's possible, we may be talking babies. Let's look at an x-ray and see."
This was years before ultrasound, and often low-exposure x-rays were used in the last months before delivery.
When the x-ray confirmed his suspicion, I spaced out. It's a wonder, I survived to get back home. I couldn't believe I was having twins. Carol would only be twenty-two months old when they were due. I went through three red lights and swerved all over the road. I could hardly wait to get home and call Evan.
"Guess what?" I shouted into the phone. "We're having twins!"
"Are you serious? You're joking, aren't you? How are we going to handle three babies?"
"Very carefully."
Earlier in the year, Evan's sister had given birth to twin preemies. Born at seven months, they weighed only two pounds. Only one of them survived. Because of her experience, we were concerned, but my babies went full term. I was having trouble getting out of a chair, and was waddling like a duck.
The doctor put the delivery date at December 26, but he said twins usually come a little early. My greatest desire was to hurry and deliver these babies and be back home before Christmas. I was convinced if I gained another pound I might spontaneously combust. On the sixteenth of December, I spent most of the day jogging circles around our living room. I figured these kids had been in the oven long enough to be well done. One side of my abdomen seemed to be in constant motion while the other side barely moved.
On December 17th, Carol got her wish for both a boy and a girl. Christi weighed 6 lbs, 9 ozs and Donald weighted 6 lbs, 12 ozs. Don won the race by six minutes. I could tell right away, he had been the active one. Christi just wanted to sleep. We were happy. Life would never be the same again. We had no clue about what interesting times we would experience while raising our growing family.
 Recognized |
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The picture is of Carol when she first started walking.
If parts of this seems incomplete,it is because it is part of larger book and will be put in as a chapter when this is no longer active.
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and 2 member cents. If parts of this seems incomplete,it is because it is part of larger book and will be put in as a chapter when this is no longer active.
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