Nineteen years ago today, my life changed in a way I never could have imagined:
I became a mom.
It all started with the infamous “blizzard” of 1993 in Atlanta, GA. We actually got enough snow that year to cover the street, which, if you are familiar with living in the South, means that all normal ways of life come to an absolute stand-still.
It’s pretty simple. We don’t know how to drive in the snow. It is rare that we see more than an inch of it at a time. Even the mere mention of the word “snow,” people will flock to the grocery store to stock up on bread and milk even though the snow more than likely won’t last past 11 a.m. the next morning.
Such was the case in March, 1993. What started off as snow flurries quickly turned into what would be soon plastered across the news as a “blizzard”. Anyone living North of Tennessee would have considered it a light dusting, but people in Atlanta were in a panic. You would think us Southerners will begin to contemplate cannibalism if we can’t get enough bread and milk to last us a few days.
Then the power went out.
With no power and no backup generator, what was a young newlywed couple to do?
Five weeks later, I was in for quite a surprise.
I made an appointment with an OB and soon found out that my husband and I weren’t the only ones who lost power. A RECORD number of pregnancies were reported that year and they were all due in December.
Fast forward eight more months.
My son was actually due on my mother’s birthday, which is Christmas Day, but he had other plans.
For the first time in his life, he came early and showed up on my father’s birthday – December 9.
Now that would be a coincidence in itself, right? Due on my mother’s birthday but born on my father’s birthday?
What is really interesting is that my father has a brother and three sisters. Three out of five children were born on December 9. And when my sister was pregnant, her due date was also December 9 (but he broke tradition and arrived two days later.)
March, it appears, is a very fertile month in my family.
And as we celebrate the lives of two of the most wonderful men that I have in my life, I am also thankful that I have an equally wonderful and understanding husband. Because he knows that March is officially EXTRA SAFETY MONTH in the romantic department at the McIntyre house.
Just in case.