2007/06/24 22:20
Thirty Years in Thirty Days
I've always worked better under a deadline. Nobody can tell you this better than my mom can.
It was Friday, July 22, 1977, and I was two weeks past my due date. My mom's doctor informed her that if I hadn't been born by Monday, labor would have to be induced. And I guess she'd heard some horror stories about it (not that I can necessarily relate; Sed's induction was relatively painless, save the cherry popsicle overflow), so she really didn't want it to happen.
I must have been listening, because Sunday morning at about midnight she went into labor. Two hours later, she rolled over and woke my dad to let him know it was happening. He asked her if she could go back to sleep for a while because he was tired. She gently informed him that no, goddammit, his son was being born now and to get his ass up.
It was a fairly long labor, though not ridiculously so. My mom was fully dilated by 8:30 or so and pushed for three hours. In what was apparently a bout of batty inspired frustration near the end, a nurse actually laid across my mom's midsection. It worked -- at 11:48 am, I came into the world.
Of that:
It was Friday, July 22, 1977, and I was two weeks past my due date. My mom's doctor informed her that if I hadn't been born by Monday, labor would have to be induced. And I guess she'd heard some horror stories about it (not that I can necessarily relate; Sed's induction was relatively painless, save the cherry popsicle overflow), so she really didn't want it to happen.
I must have been listening, because Sunday morning at about midnight she went into labor. Two hours later, she rolled over and woke my dad to let him know it was happening. He asked her if she could go back to sleep for a while because he was tired. She gently informed him that no, goddammit, his son was being born now and to get his ass up.
It was a fairly long labor, though not ridiculously so. My mom was fully dilated by 8:30 or so and pushed for three hours. In what was apparently a bout of batty inspired frustration near the end, a nurse actually laid across my mom's midsection. It worked -- at 11:48 am, I came into the world.
Of that:
- I've never been on time for anything since.
- I've never worked ahead on an assignment, preferring to finish it at the last second. (I once wrote a twelve-page paper three hours before it was due.)
- My screams would foreshadow a lifetime of loudly rooting for my favorite teams.
Um, this is awesome. I'm TOTALLY stoked about your birthday milestones list. I totally need a Rick FAQ. You're about a month ahead on your birth story -- my friends' tradition is to tell it on the birthday, or at least at the birthday part -- but you've got the right idea. Incidentally, I was also late -- by about a month -- and they were totally maxing the induction machine (or whatever) and makin a break for the c-section knife when I popped out -- as my dad famously said -- "just like changing oil."
p/s/ WOO YOU'RE A STAY AT HOME DAD!
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p/s/ WOO YOU'RE A STAY AT HOME DAD!
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