My birth day

A few years ago my mother sent me an email on my birthday of the story of my birth day. She sent another one this year, written more as a story. It's a fun tradition, and I thought I'd share:

Twenty-eight years ago a very pregnant (if one can be more or less pregnant) mother woke up on May Day. Her husband was up preparing for his day of teaching student pilots and their two little boys were ready to fill their day with little-boy activities. It was going to be another hot, sunny day on the Texas/Mexican border and the size of the unborn baby in her belly was not going to make the day any more comfortable. The baby was already much past the due date making her wonder if the child would ever come. But as she got dressed for the day, there were evidences that just maybe the day would bring more than a basket of flowers to her gate.

“What kind of flights do you have today?” she asked her husband, not wanting him to be too far away.

“We’ll be shooting a lot of approaches, touch and goes. Why? Is something finally happening?” Seeing a hopeful look on her face, but a shrug of her shoulders, he assured her she could reach him through the control tower.

“And I wonder how that conversation would sound,” she thought. “RAPCON, this is Mrs. Neiheisel. Could you inform Capt. Neiheisel that he’s needed in the delivery room ASAP?”

Her husband grabbed his Dash 1 case and flight cap, kissed his wife and ruffled the blonde hair of the two little boys deeply involved in building a block tower. All the men in the family were settling into the normal routine of the day, but the women were sure this would be a very special day. The morning progressed with little fan fare, the boys playing and contractions slowly but steadily coming and growing stronger. A neighbor, her husband’s fellow instructor pilot, stopped by and stayed a while after he realized the labor was progressing. He was convinced that the control tower should be called, but the experienced mother did not want to go to the hospital any sooner than necessary. The base hospital was only five minutes away, and she was determined to stay at home comfortably rocking in her rocking chair for as long as she could. No lying in the bed for twelve plus hours like she had done with the last baby.

By mid-afternoon her husband returned home and insisted that she at least called the doctor to make him aware of her situation. With the suggestion from the clinic that it was time to go to the hospital, she spent a moment with the boys before leaving. “What would you like, a brother or a sister?” she asked. “Sister!” was their emphatic reply. That was her hope too, but she made no promises.

Arriving at the hospital, the nurse calmly asked the routine questions. When she heard the particulars on the timing and intensity of the contractions, her demeanor changed and the mother-to-be was whisked to the maternity ward. After the examination, the admitting nurse gave the order to ‘not sneeze’ until the doctor arrived. The baby was definitely ready to enter the world. Elizabeth Anne Neiheisel was born that afternoon around 2:45 p.m. CST in the base hospital of Laughlin AFB, Del Rio, Texas, weighing in just shy of nine pounds. Capt. Neiheisel had been on station for almost four years by that time and was well respected by his commanders, colleagues and students. Before he had a chance to tell anyone, the news of the arrival had spread throughout the military community. The Neiheisel’s had a little girl.