... I had a busy day at work. I was a statistician at an insurance company, and they had a new batch of numbers they needed. It was a more interesting project than the routine ones I usually did. And, I knew that the next day also would be busy because I needed to finish those numbers up.
I had a baby due in two weeks, but, since, as people told me, most first babies are late, I hadn't started getting ready for the hospital yet. They'd given me a really nice surprise baby shower at work (complete with fake memos to lure me to the shower site). But, I wasn't expecting anything for weeks.
When my water broke in the middle of the night, I went back to bed all upset: "But, I have that project I have to finish tomorrow!" My husband laughed at me and said that someone else would finish it.
So, I went into labor at 2 am, and my older son was born at 11 pm on the 11th. I'm blond and fair (and was a bald baby), and he had thick, dark hair, looked like he had a tan, and had dark fuzz that went down to his eyebrows. I remember holding him and thinking, "If I hadn't been there, I wouldn't think you were mine!"
When I look back on 1988, it seems like a long time ago - Reagan was in office, the Soviet Union was in Afghanistan, Iran and Iraq were fighting each other, and, non-politically, the Phantom of the Opera had just opened on Broadway. But, when I look at him (okay, look up at him since he's nine inches taller than I am), it doesn't seem that long.
He's sweet, bright, creative, very absent-minded, and a joy to have around.