My Birth Story
Heather and Tad were soundly sleeping as the tiny sliver of the new moon shone down on Elizabeth Street. Mom, over nine months pregnant, was desperate and more than ready to get labor going. You’d have to be desperate to drink a glass of orange juice with 2 teaspoons of cod liver oil added—and that’s just what she did; however, nothing seemed to be happening. Mom and Dad climbed into bed hopeful that tomorrow could bring the birth of their third baby.
Suddenly, Mom sat up with a jolt. “Jeff! This is it. This baby is coming!” She said. Like a good husband, Dad got up and started tidying the house and packing a bag for Mom while she called her friend, Connie Zwick (Allen), who lived two blocks away on Douglas Street. Within five minutes, Connie arrived and Mom was already bent over in pain. “Hurry, Jeff! We’ve got to go NOW.”
Dad dropped Mom off on the steps of Holy Cross Hospital where the staff insisted she ride to the room in a wheelchair. It was obvious the nurses didn’t realize the baby was ready to come. By the time Mom was on the table, Dad had joined her in the delivery room. After a few short pushes, I was born.
Heather and Tad were soundly sleeping as the tiny sliver of the new moon shone down on Elizabeth Street. Mom, over nine months pregnant, was desperate and more than ready to get labor going. You’d have to be desperate to drink a glass of orange juice with 2 teaspoons of cod liver oil added—and that’s just what she did; however, nothing seemed to be happening. Mom and Dad climbed into bed hopeful that tomorrow could bring the birth of their third baby.
Suddenly, Mom sat up with a jolt. “Jeff! This is it. This baby is coming!” She said. Like a good husband, Dad got up and started tidying the house and packing a bag for Mom while she called her friend, Connie Zwick (Allen), who lived two blocks away on Douglas Street. Within five minutes, Connie arrived and Mom was already bent over in pain. “Hurry, Jeff! We’ve got to go NOW.”
Dad dropped Mom off on the steps of Holy Cross Hospital where the staff insisted she ride to the room in a wheelchair. It was obvious the nurses didn’t realize the baby was ready to come. By the time Mom was on the table, Dad had joined her in the delivery room. After a few short pushes, I was born.
And yes, happy birthday to me! I'm a whopping 43! And I was able to stay home AND enjoy lovely weather. I'd say that about 40/43 birthdays have been accompanied by a snowstorm. I'm considering the blue sky, sunshine, and 62' as a personal gift from Heavenly Father this year.
Happy Tuesday!
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