Sunday, January 18, 1998

Sarah Amanda endures a bad hair year -- and thrives

By Iris Nash

The first thing we saw of Sarah Amanda was her hair. Still damp, blood-stained and matted moments after her traumatic entry into this world, it was all that was visible to four anxious grandparents peering through an inch of window beside tightly closed blinds at the Neonatal Care Unit at Abilene Regional Medical Center.

We weren't even sure, on that January Thursday last year, that this was our baby. We knew that, after prolonged labor, monitors had indicated the baby was experiencing severe distress and that Dr. Stephen Ward had performed an emergency Caesarean delivery. Hospital personnel told us with guarded expressions that the baby had been taken immediately to the pediatric emergency unit and that it would be some time before anyone would have time to talk to us.

So all we had was an inch of window and a glimpse of hair -- and it appeared to be red!

Later, after Dr. James Marshall, the neonatologist at ARMC, and his team had begun the process of reviving Sarah Amanda's nearly lifeless body and clearing her clogged lungs, Holly and David Spencer got to see and touch and finally hold their new daughter. And we grandparents got to have a good look, too. Her hair certainly had a reddish tint.

Austin grandmother Lucy Spencer, an RN with experience caring for newborns, was not at all daunted by the array of tubes and needles attached to her first grandchild. She was sure Sarah Amanda would be just fine. She was right.

The extended family all cheered when we learned that on Sunday evening, Sarah Amanda, 21¼2 days old, had removed the ventilator tube from her throat and was breathing on her own. It seemed appropriate for a redhead. A week later Sarah Amanda's parents took their firstborn home.

After such a rocky start, Sarah Amanda throve. She nursed well, was a good sleeper and reached each first-year miracle milestone in timely fashion. She was pronounced "alert" by interested baby-watchers. Teething she took in stride. She rolled, sat, pulled up. She is now an efficient and speedy crawler and an investigative cruiser.

For a while, the color of her hair seemed to hover between red and brown, but in a good light a strawberry tint was always visible. As it grew, auburn qualities became apparent, and it began to stand straight up. Mousse, spritz, Vaseline, a bit of hair spray did little to discourage this upright tendency.

Her hair style elicits comments: "Hon, did something frighten you?" inquired Bill Senter on meeting Sarah Amanda in a local restaurant. "Holly, when are you going to get that hair under control?" wondered nursery volunteer Portia Moore at St. Paul United Methodist Church.

Total strangers also are drawn to respond. Generally there are two reactions.

"What a cute little boy!" (Babies not swathed in ribbons and lace are frequently assumed to be male.) This is often accompanied by an almost involuntary pat on her head, as if the person is certain that a gentle stroke will subdue this rebellious mane.

Others delightedly exclaim, "Oh, my baby/grandbaby had hair just like that!" We inquire, "For how long?" Indeed, when commenting on the tendency when visiting a doctor to forget pertinent questions, Holly remarked concerning Sarah Amanda, "Actually, we've had more questions for her hairdresser than for her doctor!"

Jodelle, the hairdresser in charge, has taken a few snips at Sarah Amanda's bangs and prescribed natural shampoo, conditioner and patience. As she rounds out her first year on this earth, length and gravity are changing Sarah Amanda's hairdo. Now it sticks out somewhat like a thatched roof on a Polynesian hut.

The first Sarah Amanda in my life was my maternal grandmother. Born in 1862 in Old Tishomingo County, Miss., she was left fatherless at the age of two by the Civil War. When my grandfather decided to come to Texas in 1909, she was uprooted from home and family and "the best well of water in the state of Mississippi" to raise her 11 children in a strange environment.

Her 50th wedding anniversary photograph reflects an undercurrent of sadness in her eyes. I remember that any sorrow was instantly banished by the sight of one of her many grandbabies and great-grandbabies. How delighted she would be by this irrepressibly joyous namesake.

Happy birthday, Sarah Amanda. Your hair will be just fine.

Irish Nash of Abilene, former president of the Taylor County Adult Literacy Council, is taking a respite from her many civic involvements to concentrate on being a grandmother.