I ran across the hall to Mrs. Oblacky’s. I’d never knocked on her door for anything, but one look at Lilly and Mrs. Oblacky helped me get her down the stairs, no questions asked, then sat with her in front of the building while I ran to hail a cab. After she helped me get Lilly into the backseat, she stood making the sign of the cross from the curb as we sped toward Gouverneur, which was one of the hospitals you could go to if you didn’t have any money.

They put Lilly in a wheelchair even though she told them she felt fine. After she finished in Admissions, they said it was time for her to go to Labor and began wheeling her off. I started walking beside her, but the orderly told me to go home. Lilly wants me here! I said. No dice, not even fathers are allowed, the orderly announced in a way that made it clear he was unimpressed with us both. As Lilly disappeared down the hallway, she gave me a wave and tried to smile, but I could tell she was scared. More than anything, I wish I’d brought along her copy of Childbirth Without Fear so that I could have clocked the orderly with it.

For hours I waited around, pestering the nurses, until one of them put her palm to my cheek. Child, these things take time, she told me. Right now the best thing you can do is go home, get some sleep, and come back in the morning. It was the first kind thing anyone had said to me, and I was so grateful for it that I kissed her hand.

35. Samantha, New York, 1955

JOURNAL ENTRY, MARCH 1955: Well, Squirrel, it wasn’t the best of beginnings. Labor was really just a dimly lit room with cots to lie down on. There were five other women when I arrived, all in various stages, screaming, moaning, and crying out in English, Spanish, and what I think was Chinese. Nurses came every so often to measure my dilation and to ask if I wanted anything for the pain. I’d decided on being alert and awake for your arrival, so I kept telling them no, which for some reason they seemed to take personally. The book had talked about breathing, so I tried it. As the pain grew worse, I started to moan and then to swear, surprising myself as much as anyone. I won’t repeat what came out of my mouth, but I will say it didn’t improve my standing with the nurses.

Finally they said I was dilated enough, and I was wheeled into Delivery. Well, one look at that place and I wanted to go back to my cot in the other room. First they strapped me to a table. Next they placed my feet in stirrups and hoisted my legs above the rest of me. Really, they only could have been less helpful if they’d hung me upside down. Then, just as the doctor said I was crowning, someone placed a mask over my face. I wanted to tear it off, but my arms were tied down, and they were giving me gas, and of course I passed out.