![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
On April 9th, 1974, I came home from school to find my mother gone, and a neighbor-mom waiting for me.
My mom, who was just 6 months pregnant with my youngest sister, had gone into premature labor, and had to be rushed to the hospital.
Susan was born at just 2 pounds, and 11 inches, and the doctors were certain she wouldn't make it through the week.
About a month later, I stood up in front of my 1st grade class, bursting with excitement. I'd been keeping the class abreast of my sister's progress, and on this day I had great news. "My sister is coming home, either today or tomorrow!" I told them. It was a Friday, and after school my best friend and I ran home, eager to see if the baby was there.
I burst in the front door to see all the neighborhood women sitting at the kitchen table - always a sign something of import is happening. "Is she here?" I asked.
For answer, my mother pointed toward the dining room, where the crib had been temporarily set up. My best friend and I rushed over, and peered into the crib.
There she was. My newest sister, sleeping peacefully, looking so small and cuddly. We gazed down at her for ages as she slept, delighting in every twitch, every yawn, our hands just resting on her, feeling her breathe. She was perfect.
Today she turns 34 years old, a healthy, happy, successful nurse, expecting a third child of her own.
Happy Birthday, Susan.
I love you!
My mom, who was just 6 months pregnant with my youngest sister, had gone into premature labor, and had to be rushed to the hospital.
Susan was born at just 2 pounds, and 11 inches, and the doctors were certain she wouldn't make it through the week.
About a month later, I stood up in front of my 1st grade class, bursting with excitement. I'd been keeping the class abreast of my sister's progress, and on this day I had great news. "My sister is coming home, either today or tomorrow!" I told them. It was a Friday, and after school my best friend and I ran home, eager to see if the baby was there.
I burst in the front door to see all the neighborhood women sitting at the kitchen table - always a sign something of import is happening. "Is she here?" I asked.
For answer, my mother pointed toward the dining room, where the crib had been temporarily set up. My best friend and I rushed over, and peered into the crib.
There she was. My newest sister, sleeping peacefully, looking so small and cuddly. We gazed down at her for ages as she slept, delighting in every twitch, every yawn, our hands just resting on her, feeling her breathe. She was perfect.
Today she turns 34 years old, a healthy, happy, successful nurse, expecting a third child of her own.
Happy Birthday, Susan.
I love you!
