(Back in March I blogged a fictional reenactment of my birth.  Here is the real deal.)

To understand a person, you have to go back to the beginning.

I have “memories” from the day I was born, but they are pieced together fragments of photos and stories from that day.

I know that my Mom was in labor for WAAAY TOO LONG because she reminded me constantly during my life (mostly in the form of a joking guilt trip if I wouldn’t give her a drink of my milkshake or something, but also as a warning about my own delivery).  While my mom was in labor she remembers not being very pleasant.  My father remembers having time to go home, take a nap, and still come back before I was born.  I know that it was in a small town in WY called Rawlins.  And for some reason I have always wanted to go back and see what Rawlins is all about.

Not many people have heard of Rawlins.  Had I not been born there I could have lived my whole life never knowing it existed.  But it is where my story begins.  My Dad worked in oil and so he and my mom moved to Rawlins for work.  They lived there for about 2 years (ish?) and sometime after my first birthday we all moved on.  My time in Rawlins may have been brief, but I still felt a draw to go back.

The town was about how I expected from a small, unknown town in WY.  A few people milling about, 1 main road, a bunch of bars, and some stores named after people (ie: Jim’s Hardware).  The hospital was just where it was 33 years ago.  Sadly, it has not had much maintenance since.

I don’t know if my expectations of the visit were very realistic.  I imagined having lunch in the cafeteria and when someone asked why we were there I would explain my story.  At which point they would exclaim that the Doctor that delivered me was in the building!!  We would be introduced and take a photo together.  Our photo would go on an Alumni wall somewhere in the very cool hospital.  I would thank him for his assistance in my journey into the air breathing world then with a hug we would be on our way…

This was NOT AT ALL how things went.  We walked into a mostly empty hospital.  Nobody at the front desk to greet us, and only one ancient women in the gift shop.  We found our way to the cafeteria and when we walked in the 2 nurses eating their lunch there both stopped talking, and with spoons midway to their mouths they just stared at us.  We had an awkward interaction where I asked if they served lunch in the cafeteria and they sent us to the Business Office???  Rather than hunt down another living soul to find the Business Office we headed upstairs to the second floor.

My mom had informed me that I was born on the 2nd floor in a room on the right.  When we stepped off the elevator it was like a horror movie.  The lights were flickering and there were some random “construction type” men doing some work.  There was dirty plastic covering the few bits of random furniture or medical equipment.  We walked over to the rooms on the right and I glanced in.  All 4 of the people on the floor had stopped and were staring at us.  Nobody said a word.  Matt clicked a picture.  We quickly took our leave.

Have I mentioned yet that there were no patients in the rooms.  Not only that, we never saw a Doctor.  We saw 3 nurses.  But no patients seemed to be in the hospital.  Strange.

Back down the elevator we passed the Business Office.  I popped in and asked about the vacant cafeteria.  She gave me a strange inquisitive look (understandably, who ventures to the hospital just for lunch?).  I gave a brief explanation of why we were there, then she informed me that the cafeteria closes at 2.  “But at least you got to see where you were born.” she offered.  Yep.

 Even though the hospital experience didn’t go the way that I had loosely hoped, being there was very cool.  I talked to my mom while we drove out of town.  She asked if this place or that was still there.  We drove by the cemetery that she used to jog by and I filled her in on the “newer” homes on the way out of town.  I have no doubt that while the town may have grown a bit, it’s probably still pretty much the same.

The same can be said about me; while I may have grown, I am still basically the same person that entered the world the March day back in 1978.  Point #1: Turns out that I was not eager to exit the warmth and comfort of my “bed”.  (See the info above about my mothers loooong labor).  To this day I linger in bed longer than I should.  Point #2: My Aunt Wendy also just informed me that I must have been late because my Gramma flew out to be around during the birth of her first Grandchild and had to leave to go home before I was ready to grace the world.  I’ll take that as a good excuse as any for my current punctuality issues.  Point #3: I love sugar.  I can’t quite put my finger on how this relates back to my birthday, but I’m sure it does.  :)  And point #4: I sure do love and need my family!

Anyways, I can officially check that off my “Life’s To Do” list.  CHECK!  And even though I didn’t get to meet the Doc who delivered me, I would like to thank my parents and family for everything that I am today.

xo

33 Years Later Baby Breezy.