April 22, 2020
Before I was born, mom frosted her hair…when the frosting wouldn’t take on the second try in 1976; mom’s hairdresser told her that she had to be pregnant. Being pregnant is the only reason why the dye or frost wouldn’t take…
It took seven years for my parents to have their first baby, which would be me. On February 13, 1976 my mom had an operation to have endometriosis removed.
Four months later, she was pregnant. When they attended the family reunion that year in July, my mom didn’t know she was pregnant. She wasn’t feeling well, but attributed it to a late season flu or something. Uncle Ed, one of my dad’s uncles, was talking to her at one point during the day and told her she was pregnant, after listening to her complain about the ailments and watching her. She dismissed it, only to find out a couple weeks later that he was right.
They were both ecstatic! They had been waiting many years for this to happen.
Finally, the birth month came. I was due March 7…that date came and went. Mom was hoping I would be born on her birthday, March 15, but that day came and went too. This was back in the day when they didn’t induce labor and all they could do was wait. On the morning of March 26, mom went into labor. Her parents (my maternal grandparents) were visiting, as luck would have it. My grandfather and dad were out working on the truck. Mom had called the doctor, who told her she could probably take her time as the contractions were pretty far apart. She ate breakfast, took a shower, and when the time came, told dad it was time to go. My grandfather was still under the truck, working. I don’t know how long he was under the truck before he realized everyone was gone, but when he did, there wasn’t anything he could do. So, he waited at the house. Eventually someone came back to get him and take him to the hospital, after I had been born.
I, Holly Catherine, was born at 1:10 in the afternoon on March 26, 1977…with what is the equivalent of pneumonia. Mom’s blood pressure was sky high, and it didn’t come down until she was allowed to see me for the first time. And it took my grandmother’s convincing to allow this to happen. I was having trouble breathing and had to get me into an incubator ASAP. A comment was made that I was the biggest baby they had ever seen in an incubator, weighing in at 8 pounds an 1 oz (the only reason I know that is because my son weighed 1/2 an ounce less than I did at birth). I was released from the hospital two weeks later, mom going back and forth a couple times a day, every day, so she could nurse me.
They thought I would be the only baby they would ever have, but two years later, my sister was born.
With both pregnancies, they could never agree on a boys name. My mom liked Patrick and Andrew for me if I had been a boy…being born in March. But dad didn’t. So they lucked out having girls.
more to come…
Hope you have a great day!
Thanks for stopping by!!
click here to read my dad’s story from the beginning…