My Awesome Birthday Story

My mom used to tell me a really pretty story about how I was born; or, at least pretty as far as my mom was concerned. She was a really blunt woman who never beat around the bush and said things the way they were; the result is that she tried to tell a pretty little tale, but a few weird details kept sneaking in there that just sort of… added a sense of wrongness. So here is my story the way my mom used to tell it to me, with pictures drawn by me.

“I wanted a little girl so badly, I used to pray all the time. ‘Please God, just give me a little girl.’ Every day I would pray, I wanted you so badly. A little girl I could  love and dress up and take care of. And then one day I was outside, looking up at the sky, wishing on the stars for you, and I saw it: a shooting star. I closed my eyes and I wished so badly for you. ‘Please, please give me a little girl. It’s all I want.’ A few weeks later, I was pregnant with you.

“See, me and your daddy had been trying for a while to get pregnant again after we had to give up your brother; we wanted a child of our own, and I’d  always wanted a little girl. I didn’t have it so easy growing up, and I told myself that I would be better than my mom. I would give you everything you wanted, and we’d be happy. I’ve tried my damndest, too. It’s hard, though…

“Anyway. You were supposed to be born on the 22nd, but when it go close, I just couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted you right then, I wanted you now. So I took some castor oil and mixed it with ketchup  and drank it, and it wasn’t  an hour later I started going into contractions. I was in labor with you for hours, but it didn’t hurt that much, honestly. I could’ve given birth to you myself if I hadn’t already had a c-section with your brother. The only bad thing is I was in labor so long you were born on your aunt’s birthday…”

The face of pure evil...

Yeah, she’d get derailed by that and the cute little story would normally venture off, though sometimes she’d stay on track long enough to tell me, “And when I saw you and held you in my arms, I loved you instantly.”

My dad? When I was little he told me, “When you were born, you farted so hard you flew around the room like a rocket and landed in my arms.”

When I got older, after my mom died, he broke it to me straight: “Your mom forced you out two weeks early because she couldn’t wait another two more weeks to start drinking again… and maybe she wanted to see you, too.”

Thanks for shattering my dreams, dad…