To read the tribute to SFC Marcus Muralles, please click here
Sunday, November 28, 2004
Random Christmas Memory #3
My sister was born 6 days before Christmas. What makes that even more interesting is that she was born almost 8 weeks before her due date. Needless to say, she was... little. And, back then, babies born that early didn't have the terrific odds they do now. But... my sister is also really, really stubborn. Has been from Day 1. That's a good thing in this story.
So, it's about 6am on Dec 19th. I'm 9 years old. We have maybe 2 more days of school before Christmas break. My mom comes in and wakes me up with "You need to get up now. The baby is coming." "Yeah, Mom, I know... in February. Go back to bed." "No, Hon, my water just broke. I'm in labor. The baby is coming today. You need to get dressed now." Uh.... WHAT?
So, my grandma came and got me and took me to a friend's house. My dad, who had just arrived at work when Mom called the Plant, turned around, picked her up, and got her to the hospital a lot quicker than was probably legal. Less than 7 hours later, my sister came into the world, screaming her head off.
That night, the nurse came in to check on my mom in her room, but she was gone. They found her at the other end of the hospital at the NICU, watching my sister. They got her a wheelchair, gave her a stern talking to, then took her back to her room.
I finally got to see her later in the week. I don't think I got to hold her until she came home from the hospital almost a month later. (She came home the same day that her baby shower was held.)
That Christmas, when my parents took me over to my grandparents' house, there was a HUGE box with Steph's name on it. It was full of all those important things a new baby needs, including a "Baby's First Christmas" ornament. How did Santa know?
OK, I didn't think so at the time, but that was a pretty cool Christmas present. I mean, how many people get a baby sister for Christmas?
So, it's about 6am on Dec 19th. I'm 9 years old. We have maybe 2 more days of school before Christmas break. My mom comes in and wakes me up with "You need to get up now. The baby is coming." "Yeah, Mom, I know... in February. Go back to bed." "No, Hon, my water just broke. I'm in labor. The baby is coming today. You need to get dressed now." Uh.... WHAT?
So, my grandma came and got me and took me to a friend's house. My dad, who had just arrived at work when Mom called the Plant, turned around, picked her up, and got her to the hospital a lot quicker than was probably legal. Less than 7 hours later, my sister came into the world, screaming her head off.
That night, the nurse came in to check on my mom in her room, but she was gone. They found her at the other end of the hospital at the NICU, watching my sister. They got her a wheelchair, gave her a stern talking to, then took her back to her room.
I finally got to see her later in the week. I don't think I got to hold her until she came home from the hospital almost a month later. (She came home the same day that her baby shower was held.)
That Christmas, when my parents took me over to my grandparents' house, there was a HUGE box with Steph's name on it. It was full of all those important things a new baby needs, including a "Baby's First Christmas" ornament. How did Santa know?
OK, I didn't think so at the time, but that was a pretty cool Christmas present. I mean, how many people get a baby sister for Christmas?
