May 20, 1977
It was a dark and stormy night. I know, I'm sorry, but it really was. There had been rain , thunder and lightning with tornadoes bouncing around us all through the evening. Streets were already flooded and the rain was not letting up.
My baby was due that day. It was getting late enough that I had given up hope that it would come on the due date. The older kids were already asleep and we were heading to bed at about 10. That's when I got a sure, wet sign that something was starting to happen. We called the doctor and he said he would meet us at the hospital. We called my in-laws to come stay with the kids and waited nearly an hour while they made their way across town through the storm.
My pains were getting pretty bad as we headed for the hospital, making several detours because streets were closed by the downpour. I'm sure I was very polite the whole way saying things like "take all the time you need" and "just be careful", or maybe not.
We made it to the hospital, checked in, and a very young orderly brought out a wheel chair and invited me to have a seat. It was at that point that I realized that sitting wasn't an option. The baby was coming, right then and there. Instead of primly having a seat, I dropped my pants and and sprawled back into the wheel chair.
My husband bent down and looked and said "yeah, its coming, its got some hair." Nothing says dignity like being laid out in a wheel chair in a hospital lobby with your shoes on and your pants and underwear hanging off one ankle.
The, by then, very white-faced orderly spun the wheel chair around and headed for the elevator. By the time we reached the maternity floor I was holding a beautiful, 8 lb. 9 oz. baby girl in my arms. She was born at 11:55 p.m. on the day she was due.
My daughter, Joanna, and her daughter, Hope, whose birthday is the day after her mom's
Happy birthday Joanna and Hope