Saturday, September 7, 2013

All About Me. - Prompt #2

This weeks prompt was to write about the day I was born......that seems like a pretty difficult assignment because although I was there, I sure don't remember anything about it!  All I know comes from what I have been told through the years.  Told by my mother.  My father wasn't there.  He, according to mom, was at the movies.  That is where men went in those days....they didn't go into the labor and delivery rooms.  They waited in the waiting areas or went elsewhere, particularly if it was predicted to be a long labor as it so often is with the first child.

Yes, I was my mothers first.  I don't know if anyone was with her.  I don't even know how she got to the hospital.   Gee, I wish I knew.  I wish I had asked her.  I wish she had told me.   How scared she must have been.  She was young, younger than me when I had my first.  Mom was about 23.   I know nothing about what happened on that day at Doctor's Hospital in Manhatten.  By the time I made my appearance it was a Wednesday.  I was "Wednesdays Child" and allegedly doomed to be  "full of woe" as the well known ditty goes.  March 16th...sandwiched between The Ides of March and St. Patrick's Day.

In my laundry room hangs a small ceramic plaque made by my mother to commemorate my birth.  Hand painted, it is decorated with baby rabbits nibbling at the grass in an imaginary garden.  It highlights and records for whoever is interested, my birth statistics......born at 4:47am and weighing in at 7 lbs. and 1 oz.   I don't know how long I was as I don't think my length was measured or she didn't record it anyway.  She named me Pamela Sue.   In my adolescence, I asked her whom she named me for expecting that I bore the name of some ancestor from long ago.  Alas, that was not to be.  Mom said she named me for a character in a soap opera popular at the time.  With hair the color of dirty blonde and eyes of hazel,  I made my entrance into the world.  The year was 1949.

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