My father was obsessed with having a child. He wanted a son more than anything, someone to carry on his name, his legacy. They were told my mother couldn't have any more children because of what had happened to her during the war...the rape. Dad being who he was, felt that he could prove that wrong. For two years, my mother took her temperature and called him when she was fertile. He would jump in his jeep, rush home to "do the deed" and produce this miracle child. Finally, it happened. Mom was pregnant. My half-sister (I'll call her Helen) was about 11. From what I hear she wasn't too happy about this revelation. I laughed years later when my dad told me that he knew exactly when I was conceived. He's quite pompous as you will discover.
Nine months later, on February 14, I came into this world - blue. The city was gripped by one of the worst snow storms in decades. Power outages and blocked roads created chaos, especially on a military base. My mother and I spent a week in the hospital (as was the case back then), and on the day we were released it was snowing like hell. We were all bundeled in the car and on the treacherous journey home. Just as luck would have it, about a mile from our destination, the car died. My father pushed it all the way to our apartment with my mom steering and me bundled up and lying on the passenger seat.
When our little family arrived, the discovery that there was no power, therefore no heat, set my father into a rage, my mother into tears, and me into the first major struggle of my life. It was like an omen of things to come. Mom ran over to the neighbors apartment, an elderly lady, and asked if she could borrow a blanket or two to help keep me warm. The woman was so touched by my mother's panic that she lent her an old, faded fur coat and told her to wrap me up tightly. Her thought was that if it could keep the animal who once wore it warm in freezing weather, it should do the trick for me. Interesting logic to say the least.
We spent that night huddled together, candlelight casting a warm glow about the room, deceptive comfort at best, and relied on body heat, blankets, and that old fur coat to keep us warm through the raging onslaught of nature. The next morning I awoke with a cough, which quickly developed into pneumonia. We couldn't make it to the hospital until the following day and by then things had worsened. I struggled for five days to survive the onslaught of fever, dehydration, and chest rattling coughs.
I came into the world blue and beat the odds. I fought with every ounce of my tiny body to battle pneumonia and I beat the odds. I've been beating the odds ever since.
Nine months later, on February 14, I came into this world - blue. The city was gripped by one of the worst snow storms in decades. Power outages and blocked roads created chaos, especially on a military base. My mother and I spent a week in the hospital (as was the case back then), and on the day we were released it was snowing like hell. We were all bundeled in the car and on the treacherous journey home. Just as luck would have it, about a mile from our destination, the car died. My father pushed it all the way to our apartment with my mom steering and me bundled up and lying on the passenger seat.
When our little family arrived, the discovery that there was no power, therefore no heat, set my father into a rage, my mother into tears, and me into the first major struggle of my life. It was like an omen of things to come. Mom ran over to the neighbors apartment, an elderly lady, and asked if she could borrow a blanket or two to help keep me warm. The woman was so touched by my mother's panic that she lent her an old, faded fur coat and told her to wrap me up tightly. Her thought was that if it could keep the animal who once wore it warm in freezing weather, it should do the trick for me. Interesting logic to say the least.
We spent that night huddled together, candlelight casting a warm glow about the room, deceptive comfort at best, and relied on body heat, blankets, and that old fur coat to keep us warm through the raging onslaught of nature. The next morning I awoke with a cough, which quickly developed into pneumonia. We couldn't make it to the hospital until the following day and by then things had worsened. I struggled for five days to survive the onslaught of fever, dehydration, and chest rattling coughs.
I came into the world blue and beat the odds. I fought with every ounce of my tiny body to battle pneumonia and I beat the odds. I've been beating the odds ever since.
