Born in the Toilet: 25 Days of Me

Did that headline grab your attention? You did read that correctly, I was not born in the hospital and my birth story is one that my parents loved to tell over and over again. It is one of those that would make the news today and did make our local little paper. Up til a few years ago the little house I was actually born in still stood but then a tornado came through and took it down. I tried to get pictures of it before then but the property and building was so grown over that I couldn’t get back there to it. Now on to the story.

So my birthday is August 30th which is the day listed on my birth certificate. However, it is listed as that date because that it the day my mother and I made it to the hospital when I was born. I was actually born at 11:50 pm on the 29th. Let me tell you about it (you know cause I was there and remember it and all!)

My mother had gone into labor early in the day with me. She took my older brother to her grandmother and then along with my father went to the hospital. Once there she was seen by an intern who told her that didn’t know what labor was. That she in fact had a kidney infection and to go home. Keep in mind she already had a child and a miscarriage prior to me. So armed with medicine for the infection they went home.

Later that night my father said he heard a noise that sounded like a shot gun had gone off in the house. My mother sat up and guess what? Her water had broke. Daddy told her to go to the bathroom, clean up, and he would get dress. She sat on the toilet to do just that when I made my appearance. She kept yelling the baby is coming and my father thought she was crazy. Right up until she opened her legs and there I was. He rushed to grab me and make sure I was alright and then get help.

At the time we didn’t have a phone (this was the seventies and not everyone had house phones) but the EMT station happened to be across the street. So he got help but as they were loading my mother and me the ambulance driver fell off the porch and broke his leg. Daddy ended up driving all of us to the hospital in the ambulance (small town and everyone knew everyone.) When the nurse finally asked what my name would be my father said all he could think was “tidy bowl”.

Anytime he told that story when I was growing up he would laugh and say “Aren’t you glad I didn’t name you that?” It was a story he told often and I used to be so embarrassed by it. Then one day my mother explained that he was proud of that story. Proud of the part he played in it and that he was the first person I saw when I took my first breath in this world. I stopped being embarrassed and learned to embrace it.

Coming Tomorrow: Love to Read

Do you have an unusual birth story? Please let me know! xo!