ron2
Posted : 3/31/2007 4:34:34 PM
May you expectant mothers have an easier time than my mom did.
On Thursday, March 19, 1964, at approximately 6:30 a.m., my mother's water broke. She waddled back to the bedroom and asked my dad to look down there because she felt something and wondered if it was a hand or foot. He said no, it looked more like a tube. It was the umbilical cord. She asked what color was it, as it should be purplish or red. He said it was kind of gray. They grabbed the packed bag and got in his Studebaker pick up truck and hauled several kinds of butt to Whitehead Memorial Hospital in Los Angeles, California.
I was in the breach position, sitting on my umbilical cord. And I was too big to turn around. The doctor tried. So, he had my mom on a gurney on her elbows and knees with her butt up in the air to take the pressure off the cord. My heartbeat was still strong. So, then, they got her on her back with one end of the gurney raised so they could prep her for surgery while the doctor continued to monitor both of us. A funny note. The doctor grew up on a farm and was strong. When he had told my mom to get on her knees and elbows, she thought he was joking and started laughing. He actually picked her up and put her in the position.
Anyway, at 8:17 a.m., I was born by c-section. At birth, I was 21 inches tall, 10 lbs., 12 oz.
Mom was at least half german, with a muscular build and dad was 6' 9". Hence, I was a compromise of the two.