By Mary Greenberg, October 13, 2019 — Our first son, Eric, was born at the Flower-Fifth Avenue Hospital on May 3rd. My husband Ira was still working at the time, but I wasn’t working towards the end of my pregnancy. I was pregnant, but not many people knew. My next-door neighbor didn’t even know. I carried very small. I had gone down to my mother’s that day, and Ira was going to meet me after work because I had a doctor’s appointment. When we went to the doctor’s office, the doctor told Ira to get me to the hospital because I was already ready to have a baby! I could see and feel the baby moving, but my water didn’t break, and I didn’t have any pain, so I didn’t even know that I was in labor. My doctor put me to sleep and induced me. Everybody knew what gender I had except for me. I found out when I woke up the next morning that I had a little boy. The Jewish tradition is to name your child after somebody who had passed away. My husband had a grandmother named Esther who had passed, so we used the “e” from her name to name our son Eric.
