Building a Family Together: September To
Mid-October 1943
Early September 1943 - Work and War
Fred's work at Rohr continued to be demanding, even as Betty
stayed home preparing for the baby. The production targets kept
increasing—the B-24 Liberator was proving crucial in the European
air campaign, and every aircraft needed the parts Rohr produced.
Fred came home exhausted every night, often having worked ten or
twelve hours. His team had stabilized at fourteen people after hiring
two more workers, but the turnover was constant. Someone would work
for a few weeks, then quit or get drafted or move to a better-paying
job at another defense plant.
"I'm training people constantly," Fred told Betty over
dinner one night. "As soon as someone gets competent, they leave
and I have to start over with someone new."
"Can you hire more experienced people?"
"Everyone with experience is already employed. We're hiring
whoever we can find—older men, teenagers, women who've never worked
in manufacturing before. And I'm supposed to turn them into qualified
material controllers in a matter of weeks."
The war news was mixed. Allied forces had invaded Sicily in July
and were pushing north through Italy. But the Pacific war seemed
endless—island after island, each one paid for in blood. The
casualty lists kept growing.
Fred's draft classification remained 1-A, but expectant fathers
received temporary deferments. Once the baby was born, he'd have a
few months of safety, but after that, he could be called up at any
time.
They didn't talk about it often—the possibility that Fred might
be drafted, might be sent overseas, might not come back. But it hung
over them constantly, a shadow they couldn't escape.
"Let's just focus on now," Betty said when the worry
became too much. "You're here now. The baby's coming soon. We
have each other now. That's what matters."
"You're right. We can't live in fear of what might happen."
But late at night, Betty would wake to find Fred staring at the
ceiling, clearly unable to sleep, clearly thinking about the future
and all its uncertainties.
Mid-September 1943 - Shopping for Fred's Birthday
Fred's thirty-second birthday was October 15th—the same day
their baby was due. Betty was now eight months pregnant, enormous and
uncomfortable, but determined to find Fred a good birthday present.
"I'm going shopping with Sally," she announced one
Saturday morning.
"You can barely walk. Let me come with you."
"No. It's for your birthday. You can't be there when I buy
it."
Sally drove Betty to downtown Chula Vista, walking slowly through
the shops. Everything was difficult now—her feet hurt constantly,
her back ached, she had to stop frequently to rest. But she was
determined.
She found what she was looking for in a men's clothing store—a
beautiful leather briefcase, professional and well-made. Fred's
current bag for carrying work documents was falling apart, and she
knew he'd appreciate something nice.
The clerk wrapped it carefully, and Betty struggled back to the
car, feeling the baby shift and kick in protest at all the movement.
At home, she hid the briefcase in the back of the linen closet,
where Fred would never look. Then she collapsed on the sofa,
exhausted from the simple shopping trip.
"How did it go?" Fred asked when he came in from the
garden.
"Fine. I found something perfect. But you're not getting any
other hints."
"We're not doing anything elaborate for my birthday, right?
You'll be nine months pregnant. We're not going out to dinner or
having a party."
"Probably not. Though we might have the baby on your
birthday. Dr. McCausland said the due date is October 15th."
"Wouldn't that be something? My birthday and the baby's
birthday on the same day."
"Let's hope not. I'd like you to be able to have your own
special day without competing with our child."
Late September 1943 - Final Doctor's Appointments
Betty had been seeing Dr. McCausland monthly throughout her
pregnancy, but in September, the appointments became more
frequent—every two weeks, then weekly as October approached.
At the late September appointment, Dr. McCausland did a thorough
examination.
"Everything looks good, Mrs. Seaver. The baby is in the right
position, your blood pressure is normal, you're healthy. I'd estimate
you're carrying a good-sized baby—probably seven to eight pounds."
"Where will I have the baby?" Betty asked. She'd been
meaning to ask this question for weeks but kept forgetting.
"Paradise Valley Sanitarium in National City. It's the
closest hospital to you, and they have an excellent maternity ward. I
have privileges there, so I'll be able to attend the delivery."
"A sanitarium? That sounds like a mental hospital."
Dr. McCausland laughed. "I know the name is old-fashioned. It
used to be a tuberculosis sanitarium back in the 1920s, but it's been
a regular hospital for years now. They just never changed the name.
It's perfectly respectable, I promise."
"What do I need to bring?"
"A suitcase with nightgowns, toiletries, and clothes for
going home. We'll keep you for about five days after the delivery,
assuming no complications. And your husband should be prepared to
drive you there quickly when labor starts."
Fred, who'd accompanied Betty to this appointment, nodded
seriously. "I'll make sure the car is always ready. Keep the gas
tank full, check the tires, have a route planned."
"Good. First babies can take a while—labor often lasts
twelve to twenty hours or more. But when her contractions are five
minutes apart and regular, bring her in. Don't wait until the last
minute."
Driving home, Betty was thoughtful. Paradise Valley Sanitarium. In
just a few weeks, she'd be there, giving birth to their child.
"Are you scared?" Fred asked.
"Terrified. Everyone says labor is the worst pain imaginable.
What if I can't do it?"
"You can do it. Women have been doing it for thousands of
years. And I'll be there with you."
"Will they let you in the delivery room?"
"I don't know. Some hospitals allow husbands, some don't. But
either way, I'll be at the hospital, waiting, ready to meet our
baby."
Early October 1943 - Baby Names
Two weeks before the baby's due date, Betty and Fred finally sat
down to seriously discuss names. They'd been avoiding the
conversation, unable to agree, but time was running out.
"If it's a boy, I want to name him after my father,"
Fred said. "Frederick Walton Seaver III."
"I'm not sure about that," Betty said carefully. "I
know you loved your father, but three Fredericks in a row seems like
a lot. What if he wants his own identity?"
"We could call him by a nickname. Freddy, maybe. Or his
middle name—Walton. That's different from Frederick."
"What about Ranslow? I've always loved that name – my
grandmother’s grandfather was Ranslow – he and his wife adopted
Della’s father, Devier. We could call him Ranny. Ranslow Lyle
Seaver."
"Ranslow's nice. But I really want to honor my father
somehow. He died before we got married, before he could meet you or
know about this baby. This is a way to keep his memory alive."
They debated back and forth, neither willing to fully compromise.
"What if we use both names?" Betty suggested. "Ranslow
Frederick Seaver. Ranslow as the first name, Frederick as the middle
name. That way we honor your father without calling the baby
Frederick."
Fred considered this. "Ranslow Frederick. I can live with
that. We'd call him Ranny?"
"Ranny. I like it."
"And if it's a girl?"
This was easier. They both loved the name Virginia—Betty’s
middle name.
"Virginia Emily Seaver," Betty suggested. "Virginia
after the state, Emily after my mother."
"What about my mother? She should be honored too."
"Bessie as a middle name?"
"No, that doesn't flow. What about Alma? That's my mother's
first name but she goes by Bessie —Alma Emily Seaver."
“Alma Emily. That's beautiful. I love it."
So it was decided: Ranslow Frederick if a boy, Alma Emily if a
girl. They'd call the boy Ranny and the girl... Alma, Amy, Emmy?
They'd decide when they met her.
October 15, 1943 - Fred's Birthday
Fred woke on his thirty-second birthday to find Betty already
awake, sitting up in bed with considerable effort.
"Happy birthday," she said, leaning over to kiss him.
"Thirty-two years old."
"Thank you. And thank you for not going into labor on my
birthday. I appreciate the baby waiting."
"Tell the baby that, not me. I have no control over this
situation anymore."
Fred helped Betty out of bed—a complicated maneuver now that she
was nine months pregnant. She waddled to the kitchen where she'd
hidden his birthday breakfast preparations the night before.
"I made you a coffee cake," she announced, pulling it
from the cupboard. "And I have bacon and eggs ready to cook."
"You didn't have to do all that."
"It's your birthday. Of course I did."
They ate breakfast together, and then Betty presented Fred with
his gift—the leather briefcase she'd bought weeks earlier.
Fred's face lit up when he opened it. "Betty, this is
beautiful. And so practical—my current bag is falling apart."
"I know. I figured you needed something professional for
work."
"It's perfect. Thank you."
"There's one more thing." Betty handed him a card she'd
made herself, with a drawing on the front of a man holding a baby.
Inside, she'd written: To Fred on your 32nd birthday. Next year,
you'll be celebrating with our baby. I love you more than words can
say. Love, Betty.
Fred's eyes filled with tears as he read it. "Next year. Our
baby will be almost a year old."
"If the baby ever decides to arrive. I'm starting to think
this child plans to stay in there forever."
"Dr. McCausland said first babies are often late. Even up to
a week."
Betty groaned. "A week sounds like an eternity. I'm so
uncomfortable. I can't sleep, I can't get comfortable, I can't even
see my feet anymore."
"Want to take a walk? Might help move things along."
They walked slowly around the neighborhood, Betty stopping
frequently to rest and catch her breath. The October day was
beautiful—warm but not hot, with a gentle breeze. Several neighbors
called out birthday wishes to Fred as they passed.
For dinner, Betty had invited the Carringers over for a small
birthday celebration. Emily brought a pot roast (not trusting Betty
to cook at nine months pregnant), Georgianna brought her famous apple
pie, and Della sent fresh bread.
Lyle presented Fred with a nice tie and tie clasp, plus some
cigars.
"For celebrating," Lyle said. "Your birthday now,
and when the baby arrives."
They ate dinner at the small table, crowded but cozy, talking
about everything except when the baby might come—everyone was
carefully avoiding the subject, knowing Betty was anxious about it.
After dinner, they sang "Happy Birthday" to Fred, and he
blew out the candles on Georgianna's pie.
"What did you wish for?" Betty asked.
"Can't tell you or it won't come true. But it involves a
healthy baby and all of us making it through this war safely."
As the evening wound down and the Carringers prepared to leave,
Emily pulled Betty aside.
"You're doing well, sweetheart. I know you're uncomfortable
and anxious, but you look healthy. The baby will come when it's
ready."
"I just want this to be over. I want to meet our baby."
"Soon. Very soon. And then you'll never sleep again, and
you'll look back on these last days of pregnancy with nostalgia."
After everyone left, Fred and Betty sat together on the sofa,
Betty's feet in Fred's lap while he massaged them gently.
"Thirty-two," Fred said. "When I was twenty-two, I
never imagined I'd be here—married, about to become a father,
working in California instead of Massachusetts. Life takes strange
turns."
"Good turns, though?"
"The best turns. Meeting you was the best thing that ever
happened to me."
"Even though I'm currently the size of a house and can't do
anything without help?"
"Especially now. You're growing our baby. That's pretty
miraculous."
They sat in comfortable silence, Fred's hands on Betty's belly,
feeling the baby move and shift.
"Any day now," Betty said. "Our lives are about to
change completely."
"I can't wait. I'm terrified, but I can't wait."
"Me too. Both at the same time."
They went to bed early, both tired, both thinking about the week
ahead. Somewhere inside Betty, their baby was waiting, ready to be
born, ready to join their family.
Fred fell asleep with his hand on Betty's belly, feeling their
child moving beneath his palm.
Eight more days until the due date.
But babies came when they were ready.
And soon—very soon—their baby would be ready.
To be continued...
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2) Here is the Google NotebookLM Video Overview about Fred and Betty's life in September to mid-October 1943:
3) This story is historical fiction based on real people -- my parents -- and a real event in a real place. I don't know the full story of these events -- but this is how it might have been. I hope that it was at least this good! Claude is such a good story writer! I added some details and corrected some errors in Claude's initial version.
Stay tuned for the next chapter in this family story.
Here are the previous chapters:
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Links to my blog posts about using Artificial Intelligence are on my Randy's AI and Genealogy page. Links to AI information and articles about Artificial Intelligence in Genealogy by other genealogists are on my AI and Genealogy Compendium page.
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