He was so shy and perfect," said Sandy of her husband, Felix. They had met on a warm, autumn day seven or eight years ago. She had bailed out of a marriage to a man who turned out to be a louse. Then she found Felix.

For reasons that will become clear, their love story comes to us from the files of the Columbia School of Public Health.

"He's two years younger than me, but that didn't matter. I was his first girlfriend. We had a courtship before the wedding. My first husband had been my first boyfriend, and we behaved with hot indiscretion.

"But this was different. We went slowly and properly, like in an old-time book. Then we got married."

They had a child, and Felix worked as a contractor, and Sandy worked part-time, staying home with the baby. A few years went by, and Sandy, having tasted the bitterness of a bad marriage, was living one that she regarded as nearly perfect. When she became pregnant again, Sandy went to prenatal care and had an easy delivery. They called their second child "Tony."

"Tony was three months old, and one day he had a little fever and seemed to be breathing a little fast," Sandy would later say. "But he slept fine and took the breast without any problem. I took him to the neighborhood pediatrician who said not to worry, it was just a minor cold. The next day, he began coughing and gasping for air and turning purple. I took him to Harlem Hospital, where they took him straight to the ICU. They incubated him and he was on a ventilator for seven days.

"A tall doctor came and sat down with me the first night, told me he had some bad news for me, and handed me some Kleenex.

"I remember thinking, `What worse news could he tell me? I can see my baby is dying from pneumonia.' Well, the news really was bad. Worse than bad. A nightmare. The baby had AIDS, which meant that I had AIDS. I couldn't believe it.

" `How could this be?' I asked him. `This is my third baby. I went for prenatal care, they tested my blood each time, they told me I was healthy, they told me my babies are healthy, how can this be?'"

The way it could be was this: under New York State law, her babies had been tested at birth for HIV infection - but the tests were done blindly, simply to track the spread of the epidemic. She and the babies didn't have syphilis or sickle-cell anemia or they would have been told, by law. No one could tell Sandy about HIV because, by law, no one knew she had it.

The news got worse. The doctors then tested the rest of the family. The first baby, "Ron," was tested. He, too, had HIV infection. And so did Felix, her second husband.

Sandy believed that she had been infected by her first husband. She confronted him, and he admitted that he had learned early in their marriage that he was was HIV positive. Under New York law, the doctors who tested her first husband were not permitted to trace his sexual partners and inform them.

If her husband had been diagnosed with gonorrhea or syphilis or chlamydia, she would have been told. But with HIV, it was up to the husband to admit the truth.

"He says he was afraid to tell me," Sandy said. "Afraid. I spat in his face and cursed him. What about morality? What about basic human decency. What kind of world is this we live in?

"He has destroyed me and I, in turn, have destroyed my family. The big difference is that he knew. I didn't."

Sandy had a daughter from her first marriage. She was the only one of the five in her family not to have been infected.

"During Tony's hospitalization and after we found everyone but Sandy Jr. was infected, we felt like we were falling off a high cliff.

"I felt so bitter that the doctors hadn't diagnosed my infection earlier. I infected two of three children and my second husband. Do you think I would have taken a chance on that if I'd known the truth? If Anthony hadn't gotten sick, I wouldn't have known this, since I feel just fine.

"I called my brother in Florida and asked him if he would take the children in case something ever happened to Felix and me," said Sandy two years ago.

"He started asking a lot of questions, but I just told him I wanted to make sure, theoretically. I haven't told my parents. Right now, I'm all alone in the world.

"I know Tony's long-term prognosis is poor. Most babies with PCP [AIDS-related pneumonia] die within a year, though some live longer. Look at his bright eyes. He's a fighter. Maybe he will make it longer. Baby Ron, with the way he likes to eat, will do fine. Felix seems the healthiest of all of us, but who knows what lies down the road.

"I'm not so sure about myself. Probably I'll be getting sick soon. I can't bear the thought of Sandy Jr. losing all of us. She may be full grown by the time all of us are gone, or maybe, with some luck, her father will live to see her graduate. But I don't get up daily thinking morbid thoughts. I love my children, love my husband, love life. It may not be a long one for me, but I'm going to try to make the most of it."

Sandy went to work counseling women with HIV infection. The family's names have been altered for this story, but the rest of the details come directly from her interview in the spring of 1992 by a medical school student taking a course in pediatric AIDS. The interview was provided by Dr. Stephen Nicholas, who was and is the children's doctor.

In November, 1993, Sandy's son Tony died. Sandy died in April at the age of 26. Her husband, Felix, is depressed, but in fair health. Their son, Baby Ron, is eating and doing well, so far. Her ex-husband's whereabouts are unknown.