It was thirty years ago today.
During the early morning hours of Sunday, March 12, 1995, my nine-month pregnant bride went into labor.
I drove Cynthia to Box Butte General Hospital around eight in the morning, and 11 hours later, she was still in labor.
Her obstetrician, Dr. J.B. Wallace, highly recommended delivering the baby by cesarean section, and Cynthia and I agreed.
I wanted to be in the operating room during the delivery, and Dr. Wallace obliged.
The nurses made me wear a gown, surgeon’s pants, a hat, mask, and paper shoes over my Nikes. Dr. Wallace and I sat in the doctor’s locker room while the nurses prepared Cynthia for surgery, and I noticed Dr. Wallace wasn’t wearing paper shoes over his footwear. I asked him why, and he responded, “I don’t operate with my feet.”
Dr. Wallace (a huge Oklahoma Sooner football fan) and his magic scalpel worked quickly, and a few minutes after Cynthia was administered sleeping gas by the anesthetist, I heard Dr. Wallace tell pediatrician Dr. Fred Koch that he was ready to hand him the baby.
I was sitting behind a blue cloth that was placed at the head of the bed and couldn’t see everything. But I heard a strange noise that reminded me of my childhood when I would be knee-deep in cow mud and the sucking sounds my boots would make when I pulled my feet from the mud.
Suddenly, at 7:52 pm, there was the unmistakable sound of a crying baby.
I watched Dr. Koch take my baby to a scale, and the nurses begin to clean it off, which provoked the baby into screaming even louder than before.
I was exploding with curiosity as to whether it was a boy or a girl, and finally Dr. Koch shouted across the operating room, “Mr. Horn, you have a healthy little girl who’s mad at the world!”
The baby’s piercing cry was the most beautiful sound I had heard in my nearly 36 years on this earth. I could tell by her screams she had healthy lungs, and the doctors and nurses assured me all other signs were positive. The nurses bundled her up in a white blanket and asked me if I wanted to carry my new daughter to the hospital nursery. I carried her down the hall and felt as if I were floating on air.
After Cynthia had awakened, we named our new baby, Kacey.
Had the baby been a boy, it would have been named KC or Kace or some other variation.
Cynthia and I decided our first child would be named by combining the first initials of our first names. In honor of Cynthia’s late father, Randy Jensen (10/12/1930-1/17/1989), Ranae was selected as Kacey’s middle name.
The Box Butte General Hospital nurses spoiled Cynthia and Kacey, and I was sorry my wife and daughter had to leave the hospital 48 hours later.
I brought Cynthia and Kacey home on Tuesday evening, March 14, and I spent the rest of the night holding Kacey. When my arms would get tired, I would place a pillow on my lap and have Kacey lie on top of the pillow.
Cynthia and I had placed a crib in our bedroom, but Kacey hated the crib. My new daughter cried and cried and would only sleep if she were in our bed lying between Cynthia and me. I spent several sleepless nights worrying I would roll over on the baby, so I migrated to the living room recliner and slumbered there.
When Kacey was about two months old, I had her lying on the living room floor while I was attempting to change her diapers. She was constantly kicking her legs back and forth, which made it difficult to get her in a new diaper.
I affectionately called her a “kickapoos” one day, and the name stuck. Cynthia and I called her our Kickapoos for several years.
Kickapoos Joy Juice was a pop I drank when I was a child. It came in green 12 oz. glass bottles and was what the gang from Dogpatch drank in the Li’l Abner comic strip.
Kickapoos was also a tribe of American Indians who lived in the Great Lakes region.
But Kickapoos will always be my first baby’s nickname … because Kacey constantly kicked her legs and feet whenever I changed her diaper.
My Kickapoos would go on receive fine educations from St. John’s Pre-School, District 42, Alliance St. Agnes Academy, Alliance High School, the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and the University of Nebraska at Omaha.
She has been an elementary school teacher in Ralston for several years.
She has made me a grandpa, too!
Happy 30th birthday Kacey Ranae Horn Shaneyfelt.