Thursday, March 17, 2011

March 17th

Growing up in a Baptist home meant we didn't celebrate St. Pat's Day. We didn't acknowledge any of the saints in particular so it wasn't until high school that I really paid much attention. And that was only because I made the colossal mistake of wearing orange to school one March 17th.

I was pinched. A lot. And the interesting thing was none of my class mates were Irish. They were a mix of German Jews and Polish Catholics. Ahhhh, high school.

When I had children of my own, I made sure they wore something green to school on St. Pat's Day and dutifully taped their school projects on the refrigerator door (mostly lop-sided shamrocks).

And then 1978 arrived. Now back in 1973 the hunk and I decided we had enough children (three) so he had a vasectomy. Life went on, more or less smoothly until 1978 when I started having some "female" problems--or rather the absence of female problems. I never understood why we call them that, but there you go. I sensibly went off to see the Gynecologist. And he sent me for a brand new test--an ultrasound--to see what was up.

The test was scheduled for March 17th. St. Pat's day did not figure largely in my plans. I was in school and what was bothering me was the fact that I was going to miss my mid-term essay exam in English just so I could have this stupid medical test.

Back then, you had to drink about a 1/2 gallon of water before the test. I was not comfortable at all when the tech had me stretch out on this hard table. He covered my belly with a lubricant and then said, "What are we finding out today?"

I said, "I don't know about you, but I'm finding out whether or not I'm pregnant."

He stared down at my rounded belly and asked, "You don't know?"

Well, he stroked across my belly with his wand and pictures popped up on the screen. "There's your baby."

I was twenty weeks pregnant. With our fourth child. She'll be thirty-three this summer. And it's certainly been an interesting ride all these years. Every year on March 17th I recall that day so long ago when I found out we had another baby on the way.

And that's how I celebrate St. Patrick's Day.



  1. Oh my goodness, Anny! What a story :) Happy St. Patrick's Day to you.

  2. Heh, Claire. And when I mention it to my daughter she just smiles.

    Happy St. Patrick's Day.

  3. I don't think I'd ever forget St. Patrick's Day after that!

  4. Wow what a great story....I've never celebrated St. Patty's Day. It always seemed like nothing big...Maybe I might just have to start...

  5. Hahahaha...I celebrate July 4th weekend that way, too, as I recall having to tell the SU his retirement plans would have to be delayed by at least 10 years...I wasn't too far off. Turns out it was only seven:)

  6. What a great story! Thanks for sharing.