For my 50th birthday blog post, I thought I would tell my story. It's quite funny. Or rather, the way Mom got to the hospital was funny, not the birthing itself. I don't actually know to much about that, except that it happened at exactly 11:00 AM on a Monday.
My father was in the military. Just after my parents returned from their honeymoon, he went off to basic training and then they were stationed at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri which is tucked in the Ozark Mountains. My father was a Lieutenant and his unit was responsible for the base post office. He worked 7:30-5:00 six days of week, a fairly short workweek for a soldier in war time. My parents shared a duplex with a couple who were friends from back home.
Dad was a jokester. As my Mom's due date neared, he started calling the neighbor very early every morning to say that she was in labor. The neighbor was an officer for a traditional combat unit, so he had to be out at the crack of dawn every morning. I suspect the joke got old pretty fast, but it kept up.
Finally, the big day came. It was snowing, a proper storm. It would be the only snowstorm my parents would experience in their two years on that base and it wasn't very big. Just a few inches clung to the ground. My father went out to start the car and found a flat tire. He started to change to the spare but that was flat, too.
With labor progressing, my father called the base hospital and requested the ambulance. He was told "no." The snowstorm was keeping the ambulance out of commission. This surprised my New England born and bred parents a bit. An ambulance won't come out in a bit of snow. Really? Just about anyone back home would drive in an inch or two. There wasn't much they could do about it.
With options running out, my father called his neighbor, who was also from New England. This time my father actually woke his friend up to ask for a ride. The neighbor, a bit annoyed at the early ringing of the telephone, didn't believe that this call was real, no matter how much my father insisted that it was. Finally, my mother spoke to the wife of the neighboring couple and convinced her. She was finally on the way to the hospital.
After my birth, our neighbor was one of the first to visit me at the hospital. The story was repeated and laughed over during many reunions over many years.
That was 50 years ago today.
My parents are gone now, but this story and many other happy ones are remembered.
What is your birth story? Or maybe you have a "gotcha" story instead?
My father was in the military. Just after my parents returned from their honeymoon, he went off to basic training and then they were stationed at Ft. Leonard Wood, Missouri which is tucked in the Ozark Mountains. My father was a Lieutenant and his unit was responsible for the base post office. He worked 7:30-5:00 six days of week, a fairly short workweek for a soldier in war time. My parents shared a duplex with a couple who were friends from back home.
Dad was a jokester. As my Mom's due date neared, he started calling the neighbor very early every morning to say that she was in labor. The neighbor was an officer for a traditional combat unit, so he had to be out at the crack of dawn every morning. I suspect the joke got old pretty fast, but it kept up.
Finally, the big day came. It was snowing, a proper storm. It would be the only snowstorm my parents would experience in their two years on that base and it wasn't very big. Just a few inches clung to the ground. My father went out to start the car and found a flat tire. He started to change to the spare but that was flat, too.
With labor progressing, my father called the base hospital and requested the ambulance. He was told "no." The snowstorm was keeping the ambulance out of commission. This surprised my New England born and bred parents a bit. An ambulance won't come out in a bit of snow. Really? Just about anyone back home would drive in an inch or two. There wasn't much they could do about it.
With options running out, my father called his neighbor, who was also from New England. This time my father actually woke his friend up to ask for a ride. The neighbor, a bit annoyed at the early ringing of the telephone, didn't believe that this call was real, no matter how much my father insisted that it was. Finally, my mother spoke to the wife of the neighboring couple and convinced her. She was finally on the way to the hospital.
After my birth, our neighbor was one of the first to visit me at the hospital. The story was repeated and laughed over during many reunions over many years.
That was 50 years ago today.
My parents are gone now, but this story and many other happy ones are remembered.
What is your birth story? Or maybe you have a "gotcha" story instead?
Happy birthday!
ReplyDeleteHappy birthday! This is a cool story. What is it that they say? "Never cry wolf?" You were lucky you were born in the hospital at all. Haha. I'm happy that you have that wonderful and fun story to remember your parents by. I hope your day was fantastic and that you have another 50 years!
ReplyDeleteThat saying was going through my head as I wrote this! Thanks for stopping by!
DeleteHappy birthday! thanks for sharing your story.
ReplyDeleteThanks!
DeleteHappy Birthday, Melinda! I don't have a birth story. According to my mother, they wanted a May baby but I ended up a July baby. I do have a pregnancy story that gets repeated. JFK was assassinated in November 1963 and my mother was barely pregnant. As the story goes, friends were worried that my mother might lose the baby because she was so distraught. Nope. I'm a pretty tough fighter. Here's to 50 more.
ReplyDeleteGlad you made it!! Thanks.
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