My Birthday

It's my birthday today.
 I remember how, when I was a child, on every one of my birthdays Dad and Mom would retell the story of my birth. It was a lovely tradition, one I waited for happily just as much as I waited to eat the frosting on my cake. (I didn't eat the cake back then, just the frosting.) They did the same for my sisters, letting us know the time and the process through which we came into this world. The telling of anyone's story soon became the telling of all of our stories because my sisters would soon demand to hear about their births too. Mom seemed very happy to tell us, smiling at each detail.

My story fascinated me. I was a "miracle baby," Mom would say. Dad always said those words on the morning of my birthday, repeating them like a mantra I never quite understood, but which made me smile as I opened my presents and read my cards.

My labour took ages, stubborn little thing that I was. More like big thing. I was all bent and goofy inside the womb, with my shoulders arching out so that poor Doctor Doval couldn't manoeuver me without a hassle, and I was big. I was born hairy and soon turned into a crazy, hairy, loud toddler. During my labour, the doctor wanted to use forceps to bring me out, but Dad was dead against it. Too much to risk, so I came like Julius Caesar to the sound of "Copacabana," which the doctor sang over and over as he delivered me. I wonder if my paediatrician sang along, too? No wonder I loved music! A long time passed since Mom arrived at the Perea Hospital until the moment I uttered my first baby cries, and I've been told the doctor never stopped singing. Once I was delivered I was placed inside a respirator machine, because I had trouble breathing. This lead my parents to remove their prized rose garden, which held so many beautiful flowers, and to forbid me any pets. I couldn't draw or paint for too long without nose bleeds marring my paintings and, after a while, Dad got rid of the hundreds of pigeons on our backyard. No one was taking any chances with my health.

 

I remember lying in my baby cot, hearing the noises of the people in the house and not wanting to go to sleep. I remember Mom putting me in the crib and asking me to close my eyes. I remember the lights from the door, and the sounds of the many musical toys and mobiles on my crib. There was a tiny train that moved along the railing of the crib, making music. I remember being happy and feeling safe and smelling so many perfumes. I soon developed into a loud, energetic child. I loved my sisters and together we would play, sing, and run around from sun up to sun down. We loved playing in the rain, making our own dolls, and creating stories.

36 years I've enjoyed to this day. I've lived in Puerto Rico, Florida, New York, England, and now Australia. I've studied writing, literature, pedagogy and medicine in four different universities. I've been part of the US Airforce, a dynamic biology association [the AEB] and am now involved in theatre and music companies. I've lied so many wonderful memories and shared life with some fantastic people. Oh, and there are so many wonderful adventures yet to be had. I look forward to them all! But I will always treasure the story of my beginning, of my birth, and I will always remember that day to the sound of "Copacabana" and the laughing voice of my father as he called me "the miracle baby."