43 years ago today ...

I was born, and it was the coldest day on record, according to my parents. For as long as I can remember, I've heard about this -- either from Mom or (more recently) Dad. And sure enough, Dad called this morning to wish me a happy birthday and tell me about the weather on that long ago day.

Your humble blogger, aged 1 year

It was so cold, he told me, that I had to be put in an incubator to warm up. It's kind of neat to hear the story about the day I was born, but Mom never really shared more about that day. I don't know if it was a difficult labor. I was a pretty big baby -- 8 pounds, 10 ounces -- but I was her fourth. (Weird fact about my family: My oldest brother was premature, weighing just 4 pounds, 13 ounces, but the next two weighed 8 pounds, 8 ounces and 8 pounds, 9 ounces. I guess she was building up to her big baby.)

I don't have any sisters so I don't really have a female relative to ask about her labor. My sisters-in-law had a mixed bag of experiences -- and I blame my nieces' and nephews' big heads (oh, it's fine, they know I love them). I really wish I knew more about my mom's experiences. I know that drugs were different back then. Mothers weren't really supposed to experience childbirth, so maybe it wouldn't help to know what she went through.

Mostly, I just wish I could talk to her today and thank her for going through it for me.