Lucky Star

That’s what I born under, a lucky star.  I’ve always been lucky—I often credit that to having the best guardian angel ever.  Fate has put me into some odd situations (the stalking, the gun pointing, etc.) and I’ve put myself into a few too.  But things always work out (knock on wood).  It started the day I was born. 

Roughly seven weeks before I was due, my mom caught the flu.  I thought that’s what caused my early arrival.  But my mom shared with a sister-in-law (who was studying nursing) that it was a placental abruption that actually caused the emergency.  It’s odd my parents never told me that, but not surprising.  They weren’t much on sharing information or explaining whatever was going on.  I believe my SIL because the parts of the story I did know made more sense once I heard that. 

Of course dad rushed mom to the hospital (a small, private hospital).  Her regular doctor wasn’t there.  A doctor they didn't know was on duty—Dr. Shadow (I didn’t change his name for this story—the dude’s name was Dr. Shadow).  After examining mom, the doctor told dad it didn’t look good.  He didn’t think he could save us both.  He asked dad to make a choice.  As I am the youngest of 6 children, my parents already had 5 kids at home.  They needed their mother.  Dad made the only choice he could.  He asked Dr. Shadow to save his wife.

(Side-story:  When I announced I was getting married, my parent's neighbor, MrsB, wanted to help with the wedding.  She said I always seemed more like one of her kids (and less like my siblings), because I didn’t wait around for someone to do things for me.  I just did what I needed to do on my own.  That too started the day I was born.)

When the doctor returned to my mom, I had taken control of the situation—by being well on my way to being born.  Fortunately the doctor had been wrong.  He was able to save us both.  It was touch and go for my mom, but she pulled through.  Upon hearing he had a new son, my dad had his one and only hot flash.  He thought that meant I was going to be someone special, like a priest.  That didn’t work out for him—but I am more than willing to hear your confessions.  :)

My mom’s recovery was slow.  She was sickly for years.  I spent my first six months living with an aunt (who apparently spoiled me rotten and tried to keep me).  By the time I was six years-old, my mom was doing much better.  Then she had another health problem, which left her sickly for the next six or seven years.  The poor woman recovered just in time to be upset that I was openly interested in girls and they were calling me at home.  She really hated that.  LOL


PS – It may not be clear why, but the circumstances of my birth set me at odds with my siblings.  Among the five of them, they were mad at me for several different reasons.  Mostly due to misunderstandings which were easily avoidable.  Have I mentioned my parents were not great communicators?

Oh, I forgot to mention something—my parents never saw Dr. Shadow again.

**dunt**dunt**dun*!!!  :)