Janette Oke (19 page)

After a few spankings for climbing over it, Terry gave up. Then he discovered that he could simply open the gate. His mother did her best to discourage him from that activity also.

It was a nice and well-maintained house. The congregation had almost finished giving it a thorough repainting indoors, leaving only the wall registers to be replaced. As they moved from room to room surveying their new home, Janette heard a little voice call from behind her, “Bye, Mommy.” She turned to see Terry climbing, feet first, down a large, open air vent! She rushed toward him, half-expecting to see him drop out of sight before she could get there, but it turned out there was a bend in the duct-work and he was only able to disappear from the armpits down.

The Edmonton parsonage was a two-story house, which was wonderful, giving a family with a two-year-old plenty of room. Edward and Janette immediately plunged into the work of the church, taking upon themselves the many responsibilities of the ministry. Janette's duties included Sunday school superintendent, director of the children's church hour, which she taught alone to about thirty children, and two Pioneer Girls clubs each week over the winter season. She also worked in the nursery while the choir rehearsed before the evening service and then stayed on during the service.

When they left the church one year later, there were many adults in the congregation that Janette had still not met. She had rarely had an opportunity to attend the church services.

Chapter Twenty-six

Additions

Edward and Janette had hoped for a baby brother or sister for Terry, spaced a couple of years after his arrival, but it had not quite worked as planned. When, much to her excitement, Janette did become pregnant, she carried the baby for only about six weeks and then lost it.

At the hospital, for a surgical procedure after the miscarriage, Janette shed tears of disappointment at the loss of another baby. She read that some women have an easier time becoming pregnant after having this surgery so, rightly or wrongly, she decided to ignore the doctor's admonition that she guard against another pregnancy for at least three months.

Soon Janette decided that she was indeed pregnant again. She simply
felt
pregnant. But when she called her doctor, a specialist in Edmonton who had been her family doctor in Rimbey when she was a child, Dr. Bugis assured her that she could not be pregnant. He was certain that things had simply not “settled” since the D & C had been performed. Janette waited a few days and called him again.

“I'm sure you're not, Janette,” he told her. “But come on in and we'll put your mind at ease.”

When she did go in, he was astounded. Not only did he discover that she was pregnant, but that she was much farther along than she should be for the time period. He called in a second specialist for consultation, who confirmed it.

Edward and Janette were about to move again, this time to Didsbury, where his parents were living. Edward had been appointed by the denomination to act as president of Mountain View Bible College. His father, Harold Oke, had served as vice-president for a period of time a few years earlier.

Hearing that Edward and Janette were moving shortly, Dr. Joseph Bugis was uncertain as to what to do. “If you weren't going,” he told her, “I'd put you in the hospital and find out what's going on. As soon as you move, get yourself a specialist.”

Janette decided to go back to Dr. Buchanan in Calgary, even though it was a fifty-mile drive. After they had settled into the college-owned house in Didsbury, Janette made her appointment. It turned out that Dr. Bugis and Dr. Buchanan had been classmates in their training years for obstetrics. Dr. Buchanan laughed at the “joke on Joe.” He was convinced that she had miscarried one baby and that a twin had miraculously survived the D & C. He set her due date accordingly for the first of October.

It was not a comfortable pregnancy. Janette grew quickly—too quickly. And she often found herself tired and worn out early in the day, though thankful for the life she held inside.

In an inspired moment, Janette sat alone and wrote out her thoughts in a poem. Her feelings about the miracle of parentage spilled across the page:

The hand of God … reached down
Into a mother's heart
And there conceived a thing of beauty
And of wondrous art.
The little babe—so perfect, pure in every part—
A gift of love
From the hand of God.

Not long afterward, Janette offered the poem to June's husband, John, to see if he thought it worthy to be put to music. John added the melody to her words and “The Hand of God” became a song. It was later published.

As she approached the established due date, she lay down with Terry for a much needed afternoon nap. When he awoke he sat up, rubbed his sleepy eyes, then reached over and patted her rounded tummy.

“There's two babies in there,” he stated simply.

“No,” Janette spoke reassuringly. “Just one.”

But he shook his head. “Two,” he insisted. She let the matter drop.

The next day, with two months to go, Janette went to the hospital for an X-ray. When Dr. Buchanan saw her after the X-ray, he was grinning.

“It's twins!” he announced. Janette was thrilled. Terry had been right—though she was sure he had never heard of such a thing as twins.

Janette was not as thrilled, though, when her due date was pushed back to fit the first doctor's assessment. He had been right, after all. Janette had lost a baby, then immediately become pregnant again, but with twins. She was not due to deliver until early December.

And further, because Dr. Buchanan was afraid to have Janette fifty miles away, she was instructed to stay in Calgary for the duration of her pregnancy. Cliff and Eleanor Quantz were pastoring the Parkdale church and graciously offered her accommodation. It turned out to be a visit of six long weeks. She was grateful for Eleanor, who helped to make the days a bit cheerier and shorter with her sense of humor and good nature, and for her sister Jean, who kept three-year-old Terry for the entire time.

Over the years, as Janette has looked back with affection, remembering that this was not the only time that Jean cared for Janette's children, she's been reminded of her defiant words: “I'm glad I'm not
your
kid!” Jean, a dear sister, could not have given better care and more love to the little Okes.

Despite everyone who was doing her best to help, Janette was miserable. By now she was so big and cumbersome that she could hardly walk, sit, or even lie comfortably. At night she had to turn over in stages. She even outgrew her maternity clothes, so Eleanor made her a large, loose-fitting garment, like a Hawaiian muumuu.

A great deal of the burden and discomfort was because of the amount of amniotic fluid Janette was carrying, but of course there was also a lot of baby weight. She had to resort to medication to ease the pain from the pull on her muscles, though Janette still remained quite miserable even with the pills. Every day she hoped that labor would begin, even though her due date had been corrected and she still had some time to wait.

On a maternity visit, Dr. Buchanan told Janette pointedly that he was concerned about twin number two. This baby was much smaller than the first twin, and a second twin was a bit more at risk during the best of times. Besides that, he had not been satisfied with the fetal heartbeat.

Janette prayed for that little twin as she had never before prayed for anyone. And she did not reduce her diet as she should have. She reasoned that whatever she ate, the “little girl” Dr. Buchanan had predicted she carried would get at least a bit of it. The larger twin he had thought would be a boy.

On November 22, 1963, radio stations across the country were repeating over and over again the shocking and very sad news of the assassination of U. S. President John F. Kennedy. That night Janette was admitted to the hospital in labor. The doctor said that the emotional event triggered labor for quite a number of women, and that maternity wards all over the U.S. and Canada were filled.

It was the following morning before Janette was taken to the delivery room. A big healthy boy arrived first. He weighed seven pounds, three ounces. Janette was sure that she saw Dr. Buchanan's brow furrow at the unusual size of the first twin.

It was a strange sensation to deliver and then to have to begin the birth process all over again—but only a short time later another boy arrived, and to everyone's surprise, he weighed six pounds, nine ounces. Janette would not forget the big, pleased smile on the doctor's face. He strutted about the room, proclaiming the size of both boys.

“You'd think he'd done it all,” a nurse commented dryly.

So Janette had not gotten her girl. For a brief moment she felt a pang of disappointment. She had been thinking of this second child as a daughter, had even been praying and speaking about the baby as a girl. But she was tremendously thankful for two big, healthy sons.

The twins went directly to the regular nursery where they were duly fussed over. The nursing staff there was not used to caring for twins. Multiple births were typically underweight and cared for in the preemie nursery. Janette was certain that hers got special attention, especially from one nurse in particular.

“You'd think she was their grandma,” stated one of the other nurses one day, sounding a bit peeved at all the fussing.

Edward was thrilled with his new sons. When he came to call, he spent more time at the nursery window than visiting Janette, but she didn't really mind.

“One will be my pianist,” he exclaimed, “and the other my hockey player!” That in itself proclaimed Edward's two greatest loves: music and sports.

They named son number one Lavon Craig and son number two Lorne Douglas. Janette quickly forgot her disappointment over not getting her girl. In fact, she soon decided that twin boys was really the only sensible way to go.

Janette had crocheted two little sweater sets. She had embroidered little flowers on the fronts of the sweaters—one in blue and the other in pink. Now, as she lay contentedly in the hospital bed, she carefully removed the pink flowers and replaced them with blue as well.

The babies progressed splendidly and were taken home at the usual time. On the day they left the hospital, Janette dressed them in their little garments, complete with the two little sweaters and caps, and then bundled them up in their new blankets.

Just as she left her room, she heard someone call, “Come see the Oke twins going home.” The corridor filled with nursing staff. Even the floor supervisor came from her office. Later Janette wished she had taken a picture. Here were her babies, ready to go home, and their mother could not even get near them as the nurses oohed and aahed and bid the babies good-bye.

Janette could hardly wait for Terry to get a look at his two new brothers. Jean and Orville brought him home, a new rattle in each of his hands as gifts for the new babies. He was thrilled. Even though he had just celebrated his third birthday and had been the sole attraction in his home for all three of those years, he never did seem to resent the new babies. He claimed them immediately, occasionally trying to take over their care.

Even so, at times both Mommy and Daddy were occupied with a baby in each set of arms, and when visitors came there was always a fuss made over the new little pair. Terry never did take it out on the babies, but he did have his own way of stealing some of the spotlight.

One day, Uncle Jack and Aunt Laurine came to see the new arrivals. While they were there, Terry and Uncle Jack were having a visit together. Terry loved the farm, and Uncle Jack was a farmer.

“You like cows?” Terry asked during their little chat.

“Oh yes,” said Uncle Jack. “I like cows.”

“Then close yours eyes,” said Terry, who had already developed the habit of praying about everything.

At this time, Janette's Uncle Jack, who had been like another father to Janette, was not a professing Christian. Many years would pass before he did make this commitment.

Terry closed his eyes, folded his hands, and asked God to send Uncle Jack “lotsa black cows.”

“Just a minute,” Uncle Jack stopped him, “I have brown cows.” The uncle prided himself in his registered Herefords.

“Oh,” said Terry, without concern. “Then close yours eyes again.” He corrected his prayer. But when Uncle Jack and Aunt Laurine arrived back home, they found one of the Hereford cows with a little black calf trailing along at her heels. It was dubbed “Terry's calf,” and the joke in the family for many years was, if you were serious about wanting something, have Terry do the praying.

On another morning, when Janette was ironing and Terry seemed to be having a difficult time finding something to do with himself, he finally decided that what he needed was a playmate and that he would go to his friend Karen's house. So Janette stopped her work and bundled him up.

The morning was dark and cloudy, and though he really wanted to find the courage to leave the house, his first glance outside brought him back.

“Mommy, it might snow on me.”

Janette put aside her iron and went to assure him that it was not going to snow, that it was just a cloudy day, and returned to her work.

Soon he was back. “Mommy, will you take me to Karen's house?”

“No, Mommy can't go,” she answered. “I have to stay with the babies.”

Janette watched him start toward the door again and then turn back. “Mommy, please, will you take me to Karen's house? And then you can run right back home again—fast—to the babies.”

Again Janette set down the iron and walked to the small boy. Crouching down and drawing him close, she soothed, “Mommy can't come. But Jesus will go with you.”

His face brightened at the thought that followed. “Mommy, you come with me and let Jesus take care of the babies.”

She laughed, hugged him, and wondered how she could explain that he should trust God when it seemed to his little mind that she was not willing to do the same. How would he understand that Jesus had given her the responsibility to guard the twins in those early days, and also the difficult task of teaching the little boy to turn his trust from her to the infinite God he could not see?

“Honey,” she asked, “would you like us to pray and ask Jesus to go with you?”

“Uh-huh,” he murmured, still uncertain.

Together they prayed, and then Janette reached over and opened the door while the little boy walked slowly out into the cloudy day.

“Mommy will be at the window,” she called to him, and the little boots tramped quickly down the street, stopping at the corner for a wave toward home.

In the weeks that followed, Janette often repeated the story of Terry's struggle and was finally prompted by June to write it down. She tucked the completed pages away, along with several other things that she had written and wondered if, perhaps, someday she would be glad she had kept them.

For the most part, raising the twins was easy. After having one colicky baby, two good ones were a snap. She alternated feedings: one on breast, the other on bottle—then the reverse. For the night feedings when one awoke, Edward or Janette woke the other as well. Edward gave the bottle while Janette breast-fed. Though they were both weary, the nighttime feedings became a time to catch up on the chatting they could not find time for during the day.

In the early months there was daily laundry, but for the first time in their married lives, Edward and Janette had an automatic washer and dryer. The grandparent Okes had just moved to a new house and had purchased a new set. Edward and Janette were bequeathed the old one and were so thankful for the two wonderful machines, just perfect for a family with twins. Even with the extra work, they would not have traded the boys for anything, and Edward was convinced that every family should have at least one set of twins.