So Mama Kat wants to hear the story of my birth.
To be honest I don't really remember it. Hardy, har, har!
Lots of people have stories they've heard all their lives about being born. There is a scene in the movie Signs where Mel Gibson's character recounts the birth of each child to comfort his children as they await impending doom. The stories are life affirming and perfect for each child's personality.
But that's the movies.
Here's what I've been told about the night I was born.
When my mother came around after delivering me (this was back in the days where they knocked women out completely), she asked my dad what they'd had. He said a little girl who weighed 8 lbs. and 11 oz. She passed out again. The next time she asked the nurse and got the same answer. Being a little more coherent she asked what year it was. Her confusion stemmed from the fact that when my sister was born 2 1/2 years earlier she had received the same information. Yes my sister and I weighed the exact same thing at birth. That's my mother's story.
My father tells of driving home from the hospital in the early morning hours after my birth and driving past a horrific car accident. Once he got home all he could think about were the people in the wreck and all the blood he had seen. So apparently my birth was surpassed by someone else's tragedy.
So there you have it the stories of my birth. Inauspicious beginnings. Being mistaken for my sister by my own mother, and causing my father to be traumatized.
It's been the story of my life!
linking up with Writer's Workshop
