The Morning of My Birth
Mother-To-Be: I need to see my doctor. Please call him.
Nurse: Oh, don’t worry, you’re just a little nervous. He’s busy right now.
MTB: I need to see him now! Get him!
N: Look. He’ll come when he can. Just — (Never finishes her sentence)
N: What do you think you’re doing!
My soon-to-be mother, with me inside, kicked the nurse, jumped off the table and said, “NOW — GET HIM NOW!”
A small explanation is needed. Dr. Louis Preschell was my mother’s first cousin. She had recently had a 2nd miscarriage.
As the nurse was saying some really bad words to and about Mom, Dr. Louis rushed into the room. “Lottie,” (that’s Mom) “I’m here. Let me help you.”
“Louis, the baby’s coming.”
“Don’t worry. I’m right beside you — we’re getting you on the table — it’ll be okay, you’ll see.”
Not knowing the exact time my mother kicked the nurse, I got a clear message when my mother’s foot landed on the nurse’s back, and at 6:35 AM, Tuesday, April 6th, I saw a sign marked exit and out I popped.
