Every birth is a big deal, but our Cyndi’s filled a particularly impressive gap: she has three older brothers and nine older first cousins, all male. To put it another way, her grandparents already had twelve grandsons: she led them at last into granddaughter country. Everybody, it seemed, had been saving a frilly pink dress for the very first girl in this rising generation; she received forty of them, during her first few days in mortality.
We called it “BLI:”—Boston Lying-In
Cynthia Lee Anderson, our first beautiful daughter, arrived here on March 2, 1972, while we still lived in Burlington. After Chris’ nail-biting entrance two years earlier, we and the doctors agreed we could do with a bit less drama. So they picked a date just a bit earlier than she seemed to have in mind and then induced labor so as to beat her to the punch. Worked fine and set the pattern for our later parturitions. Only Justin, our caboose offspring, would manage to seize the reins and generate some unwanted excitement.
Down in Boston’s Longwood Avenue hospital complex, BLI’s tradition and prestige lent us considerable confidence, in the face of our sometimes-precarious fertility situation. After all our kids were born, the Brigham-and-Women’s folks reorganized this building out of the maternity business. The very delivery room (on the third floor of the wing to the left) where our last four kids first saw the day (as the French say) became part of the office suite of friend, neighbor, Church comrade, and business collaborator Dr. Gordon Williams. About whom more later.
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