Coping in Waverley

Meanwhile, we of the Boston contingent pursued the life of a grad-student family in Waverley and in the Cambridge Ward. Rick continued to grow bigger and even, if possible, cuter. After the financial grind of Stanford, we found ourselves with some actual spending money. I did a few minor library and statistical consulting gigs, and we really managed very well.

After we’d got the next generation off to such an admirable start, you may have wondered how come Rick was still an only child. Well, let us assure you, that wasn’t our idea. A miscarriage in 1967 focused our attention on the issue, and we took advantage of Harvard’s fine student health program to investigate then-available medical knowledge about our rising fertility concerns. With Doctor Creevy left safely behind in California, it was Doctor Scheer and his colleagues at the Boston Hospital for Women who looked into the issues. Bottom line seemed to be that some of Valerie’s plumbing had problems that the doctors couldn’t do anything about.

By the time we went to Paris for Christmas, we were expecting again; Mammy’s journal (p. 62) is a mite cryptic, on this score:

“Greatest of all…is being with our family. And we are to have another member loaned us—we believe. About August, Valerie and Richard tell us. How good our Father is to us…”

That one miscarried, too. But we did want more kids. It bothered us to watch Rick marinating in the understandable belief that he was the only cute thing in the world. And our Valerie has always been a baby-lover. For her, it’s a physical and an emotional requirement: she needs to have them, to care for them, and to rejoice over them. Still flirts with babies at Church gatherings, mostly to the parents’ gratification.

1967-68:

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