April Is My Month.

According to my mother, I was supposed to be born in May, but I came early and arrived in April. I am an April baby.

My mom use to tell me (always with a laugh) about how I came into this world early. For my posterity, I will tell you what I remember her telling me.

I was born in Idaho and that particular year spring came late. Really late. It was towards the end of April and my mother - eight plus months pregnant - was on her way to Relief Society Homemaking Meeting. The weather was COLD and there were still patches of ice all around.

My Dad drove my Mom to the church and dropped her off at the curb. As she made her way to the entrance my Dad drove off. As my Dad was driving away, he looked in his rear view mirror to see if she was o.k. He couldn't see her. She had disappeared.

He turned the car around and found her on her hands and knees on the cement in front of the church. She had fallen on the ice and couldn't get up. Her nylons were shredded (those were the days when you dressed up to go anywhere, especially Relief Society Meetings) and her knees and hands were scrapped and bleeding.

Can you just imagine my poor mother, eight months pregnant, in that freezing weather with shredded nylons? I am sure she cried.

Well, my Dad got her up and took her home. I was born shortly thereafter. My poor mom had to give birth with bruised and injured hands and knees. Thanks Mom for doing that for me.

After my birth, my Mom came down with pneumonia and had to stay in the hospital. I think it was pretty bad. I came home and my Grandma Fewens took care of me while my Mom recovered in the hospital. What a blessing that my Mom recovered and I got to spend the next 32 years with her.

Thanks again Mom for having me. I wish you were here so I could give you a hug and talk to you.

I miss you.