Here Comes Jason

Dad and I started dating in December of 1971.  In December of 1972 we realized we were pregnant.  In looking back it was a surprisingly calm conversation about what to do, and to be honest, it was a conversation that wasn't unfamiliar in those days.  Dad had been away to university and we were really missing each other.  We had talked about moving in together and had already had many conversations about getting married so this wasn't a case of, "I guess we have to. . . "   We took it all in stride and knew we wanted to get married before the baby came.  Fortunately for me I was very fit and the pregnancy did not show so there was no gossip that we knew of. In the spring we planned our wedding for May, three months before the baby was due and six months into the pregnancy.

The story everyone now knows began innocently enough.  My parents were never particularly supportive during challenging times, anger was their first reaction to most situations.  I was adamant that we not tell my mom and dad about the pregnancy until after the wedding.  In making that decision we agreed that we could not tell Nanny and Papa until we were able to tell both families.  The days and weeks passed, I worked at the Bank of Nova Scotia in Courtenay and Dad completed his first year of university.  Wedding arrangements were made and May 12th, our wedding day, came and went without any hitches.  Dad and I moved to Gold River right after the wedding where he worked at the pulp mill and I worked at the Toronto Dominion Bank.

As we did not travel back and forth much to Comox or Cumberland we just never really got around to having that tough discussion.  At the beginning of August we made arrangements to go to Vancouver for a couple of days for the PNE.  Jason was not expected until September 1st so we felt we had enough time. (What did we know?  We were 18/19.). We headed down to Cumberland on Friday evening after work with the plan to stay at Nanny's and Papa's for the night and catch the early ferry in Nanaimo.  As it turned out, the ferries went on strike that Friday so we changed our plans intending to just get in a quick visit and head back to Gold River.

Dad's old bedroom was at the top of the stairs to the left.  There were two single beds in there but we snuggled into one of them and quickly fell asleep.  In the middle of the night I woke up with an aching back.  Beside Gary's old bed (the other single) was a shelf with a 'digital' clock.  Only it wasn't 'digital'.  The numbers flipped down as they changed.  As I was lying there awake, watching the numbers flip, I noticed there was a pattern to my aching back.  It only ached every 10 minutes or so.  Having no internet in those days I was left to my own limited information about having a baby but as the numbers flipped I was gaining a sense that it was 'time'.  

You must remember here that we had not told anyone about the impending bundle of joy.  It was left to dad to head downstairs and let Nanny and Papa know we were going to the hospital.  He told Nanny that I was having a baby but her understanding was that I was pregnant, NOT that I was actually HAVING a baby at that moment.  She would be wrong there.  We got up, headed to the car and drove to St. Joseph's Hospital in Comox. 

The drive along the dyke that morning was spectacular!  The golden orange sun was coming up and the colours shimmered off the water along the drive. It could not have been more beautiful.

I will skip the details of the delivery.  Jason's delivery was much different than Christine's.  It was quick but it was INTENSE!  I thought I was dying and in looking back I am sure that my ignorance fuelled a certain level of fear.  In the end though, everything went well and your oldest brother entered the world on a beautiful, beautiful Comox Valley summer morning.

Perhaps the hardest part of the day was when dad had to phone Gramma and Grampa and let them know that we had just had a baby (a baby they knew nothing about).  Lucky Dad, Grampa answered the phone!  Even worse luck though was that Gramma and Bev had gone to Victoria for the day shopping.  Grampa made the assumption that Gramma knew and hadn't shared the news with him.  He was SO angry!  He said he went out to mow the lawn and pushed the lawn mower around the yard until it ran out of gas and then he kicked it around for a bit after that.  Of course when Mom and Bev arrived home Dad was seething (and probably yelling).  Mom had NO idea what he was talking about but I am sure it would have taken several minutes for them to sort out the story.  Bev must have enjoyed that show! I will be forever grateful to Dad for not making me talk to Grampa that day.  

At any rate, Gramma and Grampa showed up at the hospital like nothing had happened.  Dad insulted Jason (in good humour), we had a visit, and life moved on as if this was all normal.  My mom and dad were 39 years old when they became grandparents.  

Dad and I never even thought about not getting married or not having the baby.  We just never did.  You pretty much know the rest of the story from here, but this classic tale, one that has been told time and again over the years, is now a part of your 50th year celebration stories. Enjoy!