WARNING:  This is personal, has nothing to do with poker, it’s part of my life.  You may want to go somewhere else and do your daily reading today. 

One of my boys is having a birthday.  He’s a true treasure and the story of his birth and the history leading up to it can either be viewed as painful or comical – I opt for the humor side of it now, kinda…sorta!  His dad died when I was 6 months preggers with him.  It was a long time ago, July 10th, 1969,  and I rarely go back and try to visit all of the memories.  We had been living in Hawaii; I took my three year young son Dan and flew to northern Idaho where my mom lived in Sandpoint ID.  We stayed at Mom’s tiny two bedroom house with younger school age brothers.

I went to my Dr. who was in Spokane WA (70 miles from Sandpoint) and that’s where my friend Sandy lived.  She had grown up around my husband and went to school with him, and that’s how I met her.  Of course the Dr. and the hospital (Sacred Heart) wanted money for the delivery.  HOW RUDE!

Hello Welfare Office.  I received a small government allotment check as child support for Dan (later when his dad got out of the service, I received ZIP through the remainder of Dan’s living at home as a dependent) but that small check and the fact that I lived with my mom meant I wasn’t eligible for any state aid.

Here’s how it came down…If you move out, we’ll give you commodities, and a small check from the state to help with your rent and utilities, and pay for the birth of your child.

My friend Sandy had an older house, right across the alley from my mom’s house, that she was going to rent to me for a very small amount of money each month to satisfy the state in knowing I was on my own and had bills.

No, so far there is no humor in Josh’s birth, but in order for the tale to unfold, it needs background.  I know I’ve written about this before on Tango, but I also missed a $50K life insurance policy by around 11 days that my husband, Gary Gene South, had taken on himself –  because I didn’t have the money to pay the premium…and who ever thought he would die?  I sure as hell didn’t.  And even though Social Security was somewhere out there in the shadows, I wasn’t eligible for anything until my child was born.

I moved into Sandy’s house with my giantly whale body and my son Dan.  Welfare was happy.  I was lost.  I didn’t have any idea what the hell was going on anywhere and I had a son to care for with no father for help and another child on the way that would be in the same situation.

Mom took me into Spokane for my Dr. appointments until the final two weeks (when the baby was overdue) and everyone decided I would stay in Spokane with Sandy until the birth day.  Having had one child, I did have an idea of what to expect, that was a huge bonus because I always had false labor.

Here’s the part where it starts to get a bit humorous.  The morning of the 28th, I woke up early with the pains beginning fairly slow but staying continuous and I knew it was the real thing.  Just to clarify, you never sleep in the last month or so because you feel like everything is in the back of your throat when you lay down, the baby’s hiccupping and dancing on your bladder and you spend more time hitting the toilet than you do in z-z-z-z-z-z land.

Sandy’s husband had already left for work and I hit the kitchen to make tea.  She came out and heard the news that today was the day.  OMG!  You would’ve thought she was the expectant father.  She started running around, up and down the hallway, gotta do this, gotta do that, and told me to hurry up and wake Dan, “Let’s go to the hospital!”

I was like, “Slow down.  It’s going to be a bit.”

But she was bouncing on and off the walls and worried.  We got ready, with her foot glued to the gas pedal we made it across town to the hospital parking lot in record time, Dan was asleep in the back seat of the car wrapped in a blanket, and she insisted on walking me to the ER.  I got in without a hitch.  She went back to tend to Dan.  I found out later that in her rush, she locked her keys in the car and Dan wouldn’t wake up.  She was trying to pry her way into her car and a gent came along and helped her get the door open.

Now it’s not humorous – I wasn’t having any fun.  I’ve never gone in and just HAD A BABY.  It’s hours of labor and the discomfort that goes with all of it.  Nothing was moving along as it should except the pain.  They broke my water.  HOLY FUCK!  Only a woman can appreciate the pain that goes with it.  Some time later they gave me a caudal which was no treat either until the pain went away, it goes in your spine (try bending over a basketball in your stomach while they place the needle) and stays there as they administer medication over the long term.  Then to make sure the labor pains don’t slow down, they give you an IV that forces contractions.  Whoopeee!  I think I’m going to puke just remembering it all now.

There were a few other things that went on, they shaved all your pubes back in those days (doncha love it when it grows back) and gave you an enema.  Now that I’m throwing all of this out in print, I realize it’s not even close to humorous, it’s SICK!  I was sick.

Finally, “Let’s go.  The baby’s coming.”

I’m laying on the delivery table, legs up in the stirrups, thankfully with no pain, and they tell me the Dr. had got called to a hospital across the valley earlier, he was on his way back, but in the meantime they had an intern scrubbing up to deliver.  They had a mirror over my head where I could watch the delivery if I wanted.  NOPE!  So they put a moist towel over my eyes.

Then, “the baby’s coming and we’re not ready yet, you have to pant.”  Oh joy!  Panting was on.  Suddenly the intern was there standing between my draped legs and my Dr. appeared.  My Dr. explained that since the intern was already scrubbed and ready, he would deliver and the Dr. would assist.  The Dr. stood by my left leg and started some small talk.  OK by me, let’s get this party started.

A short step back.  I always wanted boys – with each pregnancy.  I never had the desire to have a girl.  My mom was totally convinced that I was going to have a girl.  She harped it for the last three months of my pregnancy.

Back to the delivery, “There’s the head, turn it…” came from my Dr.  Then I heard him say, “My God!  Look at the size of those shoulders.”

My brain went to my mom’s prediction and instantly I thought, “it’s a girl, she’s going to come home from school every day and say, ‘Hey Mom, I’m going to football practice, see you later.'”

Then I heard my Dr., “It’s a boy.”

Wow!  I was so relieved.  And happy it was over – and yet it was just beginning – and I got to see my second son, Joshua Travis Gary Gene South.

I spent the rest of the day and night having labor pains because they left the IV drip on and a nurse came in every hour or so and literally kneaded my dough belly abdomen with her fists.  It fucking hurt.  I was miserable.  But my uterus hadn’t contracted like it should and I was still bleeding.  Somehow God smiled on my whiny, little, single parent ass and provided for me, that night and through all the years since.

I love my boys.  Happy Birthday JOSHIE!

Edit:  I forgot to add the heavyweight weighed in at 9 lbs. 1 1/2 oz.