Pete, The Miracle Baby
In 1975, we lived in a small town, north of Essex, Connecticut, called Deep River. On the night of December 21, 1975, although my due date was three weeks away, I experienced a serious complication with my pregnancy. So, in the middle of a treacherous snow and sleet storm, we drove 1-1/2 hours to St. Francis Hospital in Hartford, Connecticut.
Upon arrival, we were informed that I would have to have a cesarean section immediately in order to save the life of the child I was carrying. All hell broke loose as they ran me to the nearest, vacant operating room, moved me from the gurney to the operating table and placed a mask over my nose and mouth. As I drifted off to sleep, I was aware that there was a possibility that this baby could be brain damaged.
Shortly after midnight, this precious child was delivered. He was 6-1/2 pounds of sheer determination. And, he was perfect - 10 fingers, 10 toes, a beautifully formed head, the strength of a six-month old and the cries of a two-year old.
Welcome to the world, Pete Santeusanio. We love you with all of our hearts.