1965

January 6, Wednesday

Our new son is here and he is healthy, thank goodness. I thought he would be a girl and I had several nice girl names in mind, but because a boy was a surprise we didn’t have a name picked out. So he is named after his dad, and we will call him Junior. I’m so glad to be home after five days in the hospital. Sónia is puttering back and forth, organizing baby clothes, bringing more pillows to prop up my back for feeding Junior, and keeping the kids quiet so I can rest.

“Sónia, I don’t know what I’d do without you. Thank you so much for everything.”

“You’d do the same for me—in fact you did! I’m just so glad everything went well and you are both safe and healthy.”

“Thank God. It was kind of lonesome having the baby in a hospital without sisters around me to help. And since Junior was a week late he just got bigger. So the cutting, the forceps, the pulling, the stitches . . . I think it hurts now worse than giving birth.”

“Just take it easy, every day will be better. You’re a strong woman.”

I unlatch Junior from the breast and pat his back to burp him. “I was worried Carlos would be jealous, but he is so excited to be a big brother. It’s so sweet.”

“Yes, kids aren’t always happy to share their parents, especially if they’ve been the only one for seven years like Carlos.” Sónia puts Junior down in his bassinet and closes the shutters to darken the room, and I fall asleep immediately, so glad to be in my own bed.