Webring Post #13
Today's post (or yesterday's, actually...) is:
So with birthdays on the brain, I ask you to tell me about your actual Birth Day. Talk to your mothers, find out what actually transpired on your day of birth.
What a neat topic! Let's see...the day of my birth. The heavens rent, the stars fell, the sky was black as sackcloth...oh wait, no, that's Armageddon. "Dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria!"
Little baby Fliven was due on June 30th, 1977; however, he was three weeks late. The signs and portents were not ominous enough, apparently. The day before his actual birth was a Sunday, and the first day of the church camp meeting that his parents and his parents' friends were attending. It was ridiculously hot, with temperatures well over a hundred degrees. That evening, mom figured out it was time, and they went to the hospital. Thunderstorms ran rampant through the land, harbingers of the coming doom. And then, at 6:00 a.m. on July 18th to the second, Fliven was born! A healthy young man with no hair and weighing a respectable 8 lbs, 11 oz. There was much to-do, being the first child of this union, the first grandchild on one side, and the 3rd on the other side. But more important, the Fliven was destined to carry his last name! Had he not been born, nor any of his brothers, his branch and the line of his fathers would have been broken. But it perseveres for another generation! And that is the fantastic story of my birth.
For more amazing birth stories, visit the links on the left-hand side of the page!
So with birthdays on the brain, I ask you to tell me about your actual Birth Day. Talk to your mothers, find out what actually transpired on your day of birth.
What a neat topic! Let's see...the day of my birth. The heavens rent, the stars fell, the sky was black as sackcloth...oh wait, no, that's Armageddon. "Dogs and cats living together, mass hysteria!"
Little baby Fliven was due on June 30th, 1977; however, he was three weeks late. The signs and portents were not ominous enough, apparently. The day before his actual birth was a Sunday, and the first day of the church camp meeting that his parents and his parents' friends were attending. It was ridiculously hot, with temperatures well over a hundred degrees. That evening, mom figured out it was time, and they went to the hospital. Thunderstorms ran rampant through the land, harbingers of the coming doom. And then, at 6:00 a.m. on July 18th to the second, Fliven was born! A healthy young man with no hair and weighing a respectable 8 lbs, 11 oz. There was much to-do, being the first child of this union, the first grandchild on one side, and the 3rd on the other side. But more important, the Fliven was destined to carry his last name! Had he not been born, nor any of his brothers, his branch and the line of his fathers would have been broken. But it perseveres for another generation! And that is the fantastic story of my birth.
For more amazing birth stories, visit the links on the left-hand side of the page!
posted by Fliven | 9:44 AM
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