Once upon a time, on a Thursday afternoon, twenty-six years ago, in a little town called Richland, Washington, a pregnant lady with a mad craving for peanuts, chocolate, and ice cream stopped by the Dairy Queen for a Buster Bar Parfait. In what is known as one of life’s most embarrassing moments, her “water broke” while waiting at the counter for the parfait. Politely, she excused herself for a quick visit to the ladies’ room to regroup and confirm that in fact her baby was on the way. She returned to claim the ice cream and dashed to her car to drive home. Who should peddle his bicycle right in front of her as she was pulling out of the Dairy Queen but the obstetrician who would later deliver her daughter into this world.

Now there were two doctors in that practice: one that the young mom liked and one she didn’t. The doctor of choice did not go on call until after 5 p.m. the following night (September 30th). There was no option except for the young mom to eat the parfait, get to bed, and remain calm there until the next evening at 5 p.m.

The following afternoon, at 7 p.m., the mom called the hospital to say that as soon as she had washed her hair and put on her makeup she would be on her way to the hospital. Labor pains were two to three minutes apart. Against the nurse’s advice, she went through the beauty routine and headed for the hospital. On her way there, she remembered that she forgot the book she was reading and stopped at the grocery store to get another copy. Although she tried to find it, the pains had increased to 1 ½ minutes apart, and she left the grocery store without a book. The nurses were not happy with her for waiting so long to come in.

She asked for an epidural, but the hospital staff refused to use medication unless delivering by cesarean. This annoyed our controlling mother, and when they said they wanted to induce her at 11 p.m. to speed the process along, she said that if she had to deal with the pain, then they would have to deal with her until she was ready to have the baby. (She wanted to wait until midnight to deliver me so that I would have the same birthday as my grandmother.) They tried hard to persuade her but refused to give her drugs, so she made them wait — my mom can be pretty determined. As soon as midnight hit and it was October 1st, she started pushing. At 1:05 a.m., a healthy newborn baby girl entered this world, bringing with her some of that same determination.

Thanks to Mom for setting my facts straight in retelling this story, and for holding me in so I’d have the same birthday as my grandmother. Happy Birthday, Mama C!