A.J.Fedor is a "PRO-LIFE" advocate.
Read one of the reason in the the story below.
"Lastborn!"
It was raining in Cleveland on April 7, 1943, when baby Patricia was born. Parents, Frank and Mary were the proud parents of this beautiful, dark haired baby girl with deep brown eyes. All agreed she would grow up to be a heart breaker. There were, however many serious complications surrounding her mothers' pregnancy and delivery. Mary's doctor was genuinely relieved when it was all over.
Two weeks later, Mary had fully recovered and was leaving the hospital. Dr. Evan walked along side the wooden wheel chair as it carried Mary toward "freedom." Just inside the door, Dr. Evan silently motioned to the nurse pushing the chair to stop. Walking around to the front of the wheel chair, he dropped down to Marys' eye level to be sure to get all her attention.
"You know Mary, we were lucky this time. But now I'm going to insist that you have no more children. I'll be looking forward to delivering your grand children, but no more for Mary, okay?" The doctor was smiling as he said it and Mary smiled back. Mary's smile made Dr. Evan think she might not be taking him as seriously as he knew he was. To drive home his point he stopped smiling and held his finger close enough to Mary's nose to make her eyes cross.
"Now, Mary, I'm NOT even going to see you if you get pregnant again. This is going to have to be your LAST baby. Do you understand?"
Straightening her eyes, Mary agreed. She thanked the doctor as the nurse wheeled her and her new baby through the big glass doors of Huron Road Hospital.
In April of 1944, Mary stopped in to her doctor's office just to say hello. She also wanted to see how everyone was getting along. Maybe check out the new office furniture . . and make sure she was not pregnant. She was! About three months worth. After the lecture she expected, her doctor surprised her with the news that he was not kidding, when he told her that he wouldn't deliver another baby for her.
Sitting at his desk, without saying a word, or looking up, he wrote a quick note. Mary, supposing it to be a prescription, was puzzled as to why he sealed it in an envelope. He wrote one word on the envelope: "Fred." He quickly scribbled an address on another piece of paper, and looked at Mary over his undersized wire rimmed glasses.
"Now Mary, I want you to take this envelope to this address and give it to the doctor."
"Who am I going to..."
"Just do it." He interrupted, "And don't worry, everything will be fine."
The look on his face didn't exactly reinforce his last statement. Mary left the office and caught the bus for this "other" doctor's office.
The number five "Downtown" bus was crowded. Mary found a "hang strap" and waited for a seat to become available. Standing on her toes, the long bus ride to downtown Cleveland seemed even longer. The big bus groaned, squeaked and rocked back and forth, and little Mary felt like a side of beef as she hung on to the leather strap. Finally the woman seated next to her pulled the cord that rang the bell and got up to leave. Mary quickly dropped into the seat.
Feeling somewhat relaxed, Mary began to ponder her situation. Either Dr. Evin was out of character or he was serious. At any rate, she had just seen a side of him that was totally unfamiliar to her. Then again, Dr. Evin was a good doctor who genuinely cared for his patients. With this in mind, she assured herself that he was putting her in good hands for whatever was coming.
Mary found the address all right, but was a little confused. It was just a plain single door on the thirty-sixth block of Euclid Ave. The place looked more like a warehouse than a doctor’s office. There was no sign above or even near it, but the addressed matched, so she opened the door. Just inside was a long green staircase. Again, the three-story walk up, negotiating stacks of boxes on each landing didn't seem like she was going to a doctor's office. Finding a single door at the top of the stairs uncluttered with boxes, she opened it and stepped in side.
The small “waiting room” was empty, except for one gray metal chair and Mary, feeling very small and alone, she took the seat. Upon hearing someone moving around behind the glass, she felt somewhat relieved. Just then, an unseen hand slid the little glass window open, and a man's voice asked, "Is that you, Mary?"
She leaned forward to project her voice. "Yes, Dr. Evin sent me?" she answered, not sure whether her answer was a statement or a question.
"Yeah, I know, I just talked to him on the telephone; come on in."
Fred was a short man, thirty-ish, with deep blue eyes and a pleasant smile. His jet black hair was combed straight back (Gatsby Style) The “butted” cigarette behind his ear, his casual demeanor and clothes weren't overly reassuring to Mary as she handed him the envelope. Dr. Fred opened it and quickly scanned the note, while mumbling the scan to himself. Mary wondered if even he knew what he had just read.
Turning on one heel, he whistled to himself and walked a few feet through a doorway. Once inside, he stopped, repeated the same turn and smiled back at Mary, still standing in the hall, nervously holding her purse in both hands close to her waist.
"In here, and up on the table, Toots!" He chirped, in a voice that sounded like Jimmy Cagney, with a quick cock of his head. Mary looked reluctant. "Relax, Sweetie, everything's gonna be just fine, you'll see."
Mary complied. As the examination dragged on, Dr. Fred seemed to take on another personality. This one was serious. The beads of perspiration that were appearing on his forehead seemed to melt his cocky attitude. Fred walked over to the sink as he removed his gloves. He splashed some cool water on his face and wiped it without looking back at Mary. Finally he turned around with an empty expression on his face.
"Mary, how many kids do you have?"
"Four." She said, forcing a slight smile, "Three girls and a boy."
He looked straight into Mary's eyes for a moment. Finally he opened his mouth to say something, but instead took a deep breath and looked aimlessly up at the corner of the room, as he gathered his thoughts. Then, turning back to Mary with a totally different demeanor, and a voice that was almost cold, yet filled with concern, he said: "Mary, I want you to go back and tell Dr. Evin that "Dr. Fred" said, "This woman's children are going to need their mother alive.’ Promise me you'll say it just like that."
Mary nodded, her soft brown eyes wide and attentive, "I promise."
Mary left Fred's office even more confused than she was when she left Dr. Evin's. Back in the forties, abortion was hardly ever talked about; or even known about, in Mary's case.
(In fact, it would be thirty-five years till Mary knew the whole story. )
The next morning, Dr. Evin reexamined Mary and realized why Fred had sent her back. The more thorough examination revealed new complications that were overlooked before. This time Dr. Evin was glad that Mary was back in his hands. Complications that might have occurred would have proven too much for Fred, with his limited facilities and abilities. Aborting the baby would have been routine, but saving Mary's life afterward might require more than a back room abortionist could provide.
Dr. Evin agreed to deliver just one more baby for Mary, with no guarantees. This time however, he made Mary sign an agreement. If she survived, she was to return to the hospital in six months (to the day) to have her tubes tied. The agreement allowed for NO EXCEPTIONS whatsoever. The good doctor was not taking any more chances with this pretty little lady.
On November 1st of 1944, at 4:34 P.M., (after a long and complicated delivery) Mary brought fourth her "Lastborn" son.
PAYDAY
When the baby was exactly six months old, Cleveland Ohio was celebrating the end of the war. Parades and marching bands in the streets with confetti in the air, just outside Mary's hospital window. Yes, she was there according to her agreement. Everyone was making merry, except Mary, but "A deal is a deal." There would be no more babies for this little lady.
Moving ahead a few years, the baby grew up, learned to play the harmonica. Before his twentieth birthday, he married the pretty girl he met when he was fourteen, raised a family and led a very full life. When he was twenty-six, he became a Christian music minister and for over thirty years, preached the Gospel over much of North America and Australia, and then at the age of 55, he started the world's first (and only) all Chromatic harmonica discussion community called SlideMeister.
Who knew, eh? Yep! I was not even supposed to be here at all, but as the above mentioned abortion survivor, here I am, eighty years later, and still "killin' it!" 😎
The "Eighty year old, Pro Life Poster Child,"
A.J.Fedor
It was raining in Cleveland on April 7, 1943, when baby Patricia was born. Parents, Frank and Mary were the proud parents of this beautiful, dark haired baby girl with deep brown eyes. All agreed she would grow up to be a heart breaker. There were, however many serious complications surrounding her mothers' pregnancy and delivery. Mary's doctor was genuinely relieved when it was all over.
Two weeks later, Mary had fully recovered and was leaving the hospital. Dr. Evan walked along side the wooden wheel chair as it carried Mary toward "freedom." Just inside the door, Dr. Evan silently motioned to the nurse pushing the chair to stop. Walking around to the front of the wheel chair, he dropped down to Marys' eye level to be sure to get all her attention.
"You know Mary, we were lucky this time. But now I'm going to insist that you have no more children. I'll be looking forward to delivering your grand children, but no more for Mary, okay?" The doctor was smiling as he said it and Mary smiled back. Mary's smile made Dr. Evan think she might not be taking him as seriously as he knew he was. To drive home his point he stopped smiling and held his finger close enough to Mary's nose to make her eyes cross.
"Now, Mary, I'm NOT even going to see you if you get pregnant again. This is going to have to be your LAST baby. Do you understand?"
Straightening her eyes, Mary agreed. She thanked the doctor as the nurse wheeled her and her new baby through the big glass doors of Huron Road Hospital.
In April of 1944, Mary stopped in to her doctor's office just to say hello. She also wanted to see how everyone was getting along. Maybe check out the new office furniture . . and make sure she was not pregnant. She was! About three months worth. After the lecture she expected, her doctor surprised her with the news that he was not kidding, when he told her that he wouldn't deliver another baby for her.
Sitting at his desk, without saying a word, or looking up, he wrote a quick note. Mary, supposing it to be a prescription, was puzzled as to why he sealed it in an envelope. He wrote one word on the envelope: "Fred." He quickly scribbled an address on another piece of paper, and looked at Mary over his undersized wire rimmed glasses.
"Now Mary, I want you to take this envelope to this address and give it to the doctor."
"Who am I going to..."
"Just do it." He interrupted, "And don't worry, everything will be fine."
The look on his face didn't exactly reinforce his last statement. Mary left the office and caught the bus for this "other" doctor's office.
The number five "Downtown" bus was crowded. Mary found a "hang strap" and waited for a seat to become available. Standing on her toes, the long bus ride to downtown Cleveland seemed even longer. The big bus groaned, squeaked and rocked back and forth, and little Mary felt like a side of beef as she hung on to the leather strap. Finally the woman seated next to her pulled the cord that rang the bell and got up to leave. Mary quickly dropped into the seat.
Feeling somewhat relaxed, Mary began to ponder her situation. Either Dr. Evin was out of character or he was serious. At any rate, she had just seen a side of him that was totally unfamiliar to her. Then again, Dr. Evin was a good doctor who genuinely cared for his patients. With this in mind, she assured herself that he was putting her in good hands for whatever was coming.
Mary found the address all right, but was a little confused. It was just a plain single door on the thirty-sixth block of Euclid Ave. The place looked more like a warehouse than a doctor’s office. There was no sign above or even near it, but the addressed matched, so she opened the door. Just inside was a long green staircase. Again, the three-story walk up, negotiating stacks of boxes on each landing didn't seem like she was going to a doctor's office. Finding a single door at the top of the stairs uncluttered with boxes, she opened it and stepped in side.
The small “waiting room” was empty, except for one gray metal chair and Mary, feeling very small and alone, she took the seat. Upon hearing someone moving around behind the glass, she felt somewhat relieved. Just then, an unseen hand slid the little glass window open, and a man's voice asked, "Is that you, Mary?"
She leaned forward to project her voice. "Yes, Dr. Evin sent me?" she answered, not sure whether her answer was a statement or a question.
"Yeah, I know, I just talked to him on the telephone; come on in."
Fred was a short man, thirty-ish, with deep blue eyes and a pleasant smile. His jet black hair was combed straight back (Gatsby Style) The “butted” cigarette behind his ear, his casual demeanor and clothes weren't overly reassuring to Mary as she handed him the envelope. Dr. Fred opened it and quickly scanned the note, while mumbling the scan to himself. Mary wondered if even he knew what he had just read.
Turning on one heel, he whistled to himself and walked a few feet through a doorway. Once inside, he stopped, repeated the same turn and smiled back at Mary, still standing in the hall, nervously holding her purse in both hands close to her waist.
"In here, and up on the table, Toots!" He chirped, in a voice that sounded like Jimmy Cagney, with a quick cock of his head. Mary looked reluctant. "Relax, Sweetie, everything's gonna be just fine, you'll see."
Mary complied. As the examination dragged on, Dr. Fred seemed to take on another personality. This one was serious. The beads of perspiration that were appearing on his forehead seemed to melt his cocky attitude. Fred walked over to the sink as he removed his gloves. He splashed some cool water on his face and wiped it without looking back at Mary. Finally he turned around with an empty expression on his face.
"Mary, how many kids do you have?"
"Four." She said, forcing a slight smile, "Three girls and a boy."
He looked straight into Mary's eyes for a moment. Finally he opened his mouth to say something, but instead took a deep breath and looked aimlessly up at the corner of the room, as he gathered his thoughts. Then, turning back to Mary with a totally different demeanor, and a voice that was almost cold, yet filled with concern, he said: "Mary, I want you to go back and tell Dr. Evin that "Dr. Fred" said, "This woman's children are going to need their mother alive.’ Promise me you'll say it just like that."
Mary nodded, her soft brown eyes wide and attentive, "I promise."
Mary left Fred's office even more confused than she was when she left Dr. Evin's. Back in the forties, abortion was hardly ever talked about; or even known about, in Mary's case.
(In fact, it would be thirty-five years till Mary knew the whole story. )
The next morning, Dr. Evin reexamined Mary and realized why Fred had sent her back. The more thorough examination revealed new complications that were overlooked before. This time Dr. Evin was glad that Mary was back in his hands. Complications that might have occurred would have proven too much for Fred, with his limited facilities and abilities. Aborting the baby would have been routine, but saving Mary's life afterward might require more than a back room abortionist could provide.
Dr. Evin agreed to deliver just one more baby for Mary, with no guarantees. This time however, he made Mary sign an agreement. If she survived, she was to return to the hospital in six months (to the day) to have her tubes tied. The agreement allowed for NO EXCEPTIONS whatsoever. The good doctor was not taking any more chances with this pretty little lady.
On November 1st of 1944, at 4:34 P.M., (after a long and complicated delivery) Mary brought fourth her "Lastborn" son.
PAYDAY
When the baby was exactly six months old, Cleveland Ohio was celebrating the end of the war. Parades and marching bands in the streets with confetti in the air, just outside Mary's hospital window. Yes, she was there according to her agreement. Everyone was making merry, except Mary, but "A deal is a deal." There would be no more babies for this little lady.
Moving ahead a few years, the baby grew up, learned to play the harmonica. Before his twentieth birthday, he married the pretty girl he met when he was fourteen, raised a family and led a very full life. When he was twenty-six, he became a Christian music minister and for over thirty years, preached the Gospel over much of North America and Australia, and then at the age of 55, he started the world's first (and only) all Chromatic harmonica discussion community called SlideMeister.
Who knew, eh? Yep! I was not even supposed to be here at all, but as the above mentioned abortion survivor, here I am, eighty years later, and still "killin' it!" 😎
The "Eighty year old, Pro Life Poster Child,"
A.J.Fedor