The day of my birth

It's my birthday week.  I used to really get excited about birthdays.  I hate to sound cliché, but as I've gotten older, I don't get as excited.  This week, I turn 42.  (gasp!)  That sounds so frickin' old. Let's go back to the beginning, shall we?

Let me tell you a little story................the day of my birth.

Obviously, I don't remember that day.  But, this story has been told throughout the years, so I'm pretty confident that I can relay it fairly accurately.

1973...Baytown, Texas...my parents lived in a duplex right next door to my dad's sister, my aunt Mary Kay, who happened to be a nurse.  In the middle of the night, my mom's water broke (or whatever happens to tell you a baby is coming.)  I've had no babies of my own, so when it comes to birthin' babies, I'm pretty ignorant.  Anyway.  My mom knew it was time to have me.  Mom & Dad went next door and got Mary Kay to ride to the hospital with them to help with Mom.  My dad had to concentrate on driving because it was heavily raining, or it had rained heavily, because I know flooding is a part of this story.  They had to go a longer route to the hospital.

They get to the hospital.  Mary Kay goes inside to say "my sister-in-law is here ready to have a baby".  As beaureaucratic organizations (like hospitals) go, questions started getting asked, time was a-tickin'.  Mary Kay tried to tell them "We don't have a lot of time.  She's ready to have this baby!".  Somehow my mom gets inside (I'm envisioning Dad with a wheelchair, but I don't know if that's exactly what happened).  The nurse asking questions tells Mary Kay to look under my mom's gown and tell her what she sees.  Why?  I don't know.  Mary Kay was a nurse, but not a baby-delivering nurse, so I don't know why she was the one to first see this...but Mary Kay reluctantly agreed to take a look at the region that her sister-in-law was about to birth a baby.  My foot was out.

Like I said, I'm pretty ignorant when it comes to childbirth, but I do know this: a foot is not the first thing you're supposed to see when a baby is to be born.

My mother claims that all she remembers from this point is throwing up on herself and passing out.  She had Mexican food for dinner the night before.  I'm sure this was a rather unpleasant scene.

Mom gets taken quickly (finally!) to the delivery room.  The cord was supposedly wrapped around my neck, and there was a scary moment or two, but that got resolved.  I have a birthmark on my forehead that is supposedly from the time I was stuck against the cervix with the cord around my neck.  Lovely.  I'm sure my mom was feeling wonderful around this time.

My birth certificate says that I was born with red hair and blue eyes, born at 4:04am on Sunday, June 17th.  It was Father's Day.  My dad likes to say I was the most beautiful baby he's ever seen.  You could say that I was a Daddy's Girl from the start.

My mother just groans and grumbles a lot when this story is told.  I don't blame her.  You could say I was trouble for my mother from the start.

My brother was 3 1/2 years old.  I've never once heard where my brother was during all of this.  One would presume he was asleep since it was the middle of the night when they went to the hospital.  I hope they didn't leave him home alone at the duplex.  Who knows?  Who cares?  This story was supposed to be about me!