Those 70ish Girls

I was 20 years old when I learned I was going to have my 1st baby. The year was 1972. It was back before home pregnancy tests, so you learned you were with child a little later in the process.  Along about the 2nd month, you felt sick. I would have sworn that if anyone looked at me, they would ask, “Why are you green?” The old expression was, “The rabbit died.” It had something to do with the urine test you could take long after you were pretty sure you were pregnant.

I felt green my entire pregnancy, but that didn’t stop me from wearing the cute maternity tops my husband’s mother made for me. I was only 3 months along when I just HAD to wear them. Let’s just say I had plenty of room to grow. Wearing maternity clothes before you need them is not a good idea. I was sick of them by the 5th month, but it was too late to go back to regular clothes. I was locked into wearing oversized pants and blouses for what felt like an eternity. Of course, nowadays, there is no such thing as maternity wear.

I’ll never forget the night I went into labor. I had 2 books that told me everything I needed to know about labor, birth, and all things having to do with bringing a new bundle of joy into the world. I woke up at about 1:00 in the morning with a pain that started in my back and made its way to the front. I got up and grabbed a book. It said whenever the pains were 20 minutes apart, it was time to head for the hospital. I hadn’t really factured in that the hospital was an hour away. The problem was that my pains were never more than 10 minutes apart. I grabbed the other book and gave it to my husband. “See if it says anything about labor pains that are only 10 minutes apart. Do they spread out?” I asked.

After we had both finished reading, we decided it was time to go! So what if we were a little bit early.

Somewhere between Vivian and Pierre where the hospital was, I’d had enough of the 10 minutes apart labor pains and told my husband to STEP ON IT!  The upshot of that was we ended up being escorted to the hospital by a very understanding policeman who had his flashing light red light on. He told us to follow him!

Because of the nice policeman, we made it to the hospital in plenty of time. I gave birth to a beautiful 7 lb 2 oz baby boy. Oh, that’s another thing. There was no way of knowing in advance if your bundle of joy was going to be a boy or a girl, and the daddy was not allowed in the delivery room. My how times have changed in the last 50 years. My son is now 51 and still his mother’s pride and joy. I had another little bundle of joy 5 years later, and I was also blessed along the way with 2 beautiful daughters through my marriage to Kip. My heart is full.

Almost 43 years ago.