Throughout my life, my mom has frequently shared the story of my birth with me. It's a story I never get tired of hearing, and each time she recounts it, I learn a new detail. I think the reason why I like hearing it so much is because of the way my mom tells the story, so proud, so vivid, so clear, like the whole thing happened days ago instead of the 10, 15, 17, 21, 26, 28, 31, or 33 years later she was sharing the events of the night.
My mom and dad lived in Mystic, CT with my 7.5 year old sister. My mom was in the process of getting her MBA attending night classes, and my dad worked nights at a lab (pfizer maybe?). It was a Wednesday night, and my mom was in class when she started paying attention to her contractions. She timed them in her notebook, and after deciding they were real, left during the class break. She went home and found things to distract her, like watering the garden until deciding it was the real deal. Since my dad was at work, thinking she still had plenty of time, she called my grandpa to drive her to the hospital. They drove to Westerly, RI, and showed up at the hospital around 10pm or so. A nurse checked her out, and decided that I still had a lot of time before making my appearance, so they urged my mom to go back home and rest. My mom declined, and stated that she was pretty sure I was on my way. Soon. In the time it took for the nurse to track down the doctor in the hospital, and get back to my mom, things had REALLY progressed. When the nurse returned to my mom's room 30 or so minutes later, the nurse gasped and told her to "stop what she was doing." (As if a woman in labor can stop things) Anyway, the doctor came flying into the room minutes later and out I came, at 11:15pm.
No time for pain killers my mom reminds me every time. I'm fuzzy on the details about when my dad showed up, but I think it was pretty close to after I was born. I'm not sure if my sister was brought to the hospital that night, or if she was with my grandma until the morning. I do know that my sister gave me my name, and I found out years later that my name and Rhode Islands' state flower are the same. I'm not sure if my sister knew that, or if it had any part in my name, but what a pretty cool coincidence anyway.
When I hear this story, I hear strength in my mom's voice. Strength for knowing her body enough to refuse to go home. Strength for having a drug free birth. Strength for being 9+ months pregnant and in school. It has always been an inspiring story to me, and how could I not love a story in which I'm the star?!
I look forward to sharing the story of my childs birthday repeatedly, however the story chooses to play out.