Big Babies

Most of my family have been big babies. With all the whining and crying and dependency on others, it’s amazing we survived at all! Um, before you decide it’s ok to say, “Yeah, we always knew you were nothing but a big baby,” I should inform you I’m actually talking about being a big baby…you know, infant, um, at birth? Following now? Good. Besides, I’m not a big baby…at least now.

I was born 11 pounds to a mother who stood 4’11” and barely weighed 100 pounds herself. To put it in perspective, my mom lost 11% of her body mass giving birth to me. Let’s see any other weight loss plan achieve those results! She went through 36 hours of labor that nearly killed her (per my mom…repeated multiple times for my benefit) and if I hadn’t had 2 older large baby brothers (9 lb. & 9.5 lb.) pave the way, I may have done just that. So yes, I nearly killed my mom, but I believe it was in self-defense!

To make my case, we have to go back to just before my conception. My parents were content with my two older brothers, with “content” meaning, that’s it, no more, we’ve had enough! What changed things was my aunt and uncle getting married. They got together with my folks and next thing you know it’s “we should have kids at the same time! They can grow up together as best friends and we can dress them alike and blah, blah, blah.” Good thoughts, I guess. The problem is, my mom could get pregnant by using my dad’s comb where my aunt and uncle couldn’t get pregnant at all. When my mom realized this, she did everything she could to lose me. She ran up and down the stairs, worked even harder than ever, was rough when she did things, flung herself off the tallest building in the neighborhood…that last one is suspect, and generally failed. I guess I was determined to be born.

When my dad went straight from work to the hospital, they told him he had plenty of time to go home and shower. Seeing that he worked at a packing house and smelt of dead cattle, this was probably more for their benefit than his. When he came back, he camped out in the waiting room until I was born. Back then, that’s what dad’s did…camped out while feeling so sorry for themselves because the waiting room only had 3 channels on the television back then and the antenna had to be just right. It was horrible! Anyway, back to my birth and my mom nearly dying.

When I was finally born, they went and notified my dad in the waiting room and told him he could see me through the nursery window. He did that, but couldn’t see my nametag anywhere. In his defense, we hadn’t met yet so he didn’t have a clue what I looked like. When he asked a passing nurse, she smiled and took him to a separate room where I was. Apparently, I was so big and loud and angry that I was keeping the rest of the babies awake. Personally, I think I had every right after 9 months of being tortured by my mom’s attempts to get rid of me! Gratefully, I looked so much like my dad (bald head, mustache, and all) that he took an instant liking to me…that’s always a good thing when you’re a kid.

Moral of the story? Don’t stress if you have a big baby…our bodies eventually grow to fit our big heads.


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