jawnbc | Happy jawnbc Eve

When I was born they broke the mold.

Ma and Da were married on 20 June 1959.
On 8 June 1960 Kathleen Marie BC was born.
On 27 June 1961 Michael Joseph BC was born (27 June is also Da’s, Uncle Kevin’s and now niece Christina’s birthday).
And on 03 October 1962 Thomas Andrew BC arrived, making 3 babies in 2.25 years.

In Summer 196, Ma was shocked--although not surprised, since she didn’t use birth control, Catlick gurl an’ awl--to find herself pregnant again. What’s particularly amazing is that Ma only had one ovary (the other was cystic and removed when she was 14); she had 4 kids in 3.75 years while ovulating bimonthly.

Thing was, though, I was due on the last day of February 1964--the 29th. A bad luck day, not to mention complicated. They might’ve celebrated my birthday on the 1st of March in non-Leap years. Or I might have spent 3 years in each grade, which would’ve made me the biggest kid until perhaps grade 5. And the hairest.

It’s never been spoken of directly, but I’m convinced Ma’s reaction was “no kid of mine is gonna be a freak.” D’oh! Sorry Ma!

And, quel surprise, Ma goes into labour on the 28th. She’s in hospital, in the labour ward, and tells the nurse she’s ready to deliver.
“Oh no honey,” the nurse replied “it’s too soon. You’ll be quite a while.”
“No, it’s now. I know it!”
“No dear, trust me, it takes a lot longer than a couple of hours--I’ve seen lots of . . .”
“Oh yeah, well this is my 4th--take a look!”

The crown of my head and my mother’s smug look of satisfaction probably stayed with that poor nurse for years.

So at 1107am on 28 February 1964 Jawn Patrick BC was born at Jewish Memorial Hospital in Manhattan NY (White flight had led to closing the maternity ward at St. Joe’s in the Bronx, where my parents lived, between Michael and Tommy). A bit over 5 pounds, so smallish (the first 3 were all 7lbs 7oz) After a few hours Da went home, where Nanny was minding the other 3. He was gushing and chuffed--3 sons!--when the phone rang. All Da said was “hello.” He hung up the phone, ashen.

“Go!” said Nanny. “Hurry!”

One of the effects of Catholic “no birth control” policy was maternal and infant mortality rates among Catholics remained high, even in places like New York. Whilst delivering her 4th child in less than 3 years, Ma’s uterus had ruptures, causing her to bleed out. “Oh doctor, it won’t be long now--my water just broke” was the phrase that alerted Ma’s physician that something was dreadfully wrong--she had delivered me 2 hours earlier. Already her bed was soaked in blood, thanks to a burst uterine artery.

They gave her last rights. They operated, did a hysterectomy, and saved Ma’s life. It took a long time, particularly since they were looking for ovary #2--which wasn’t there anymore. They left Ma’s cervix and one ovary, so she’d continue to have natural estrogen uptake (and periods). No more kids. Ergo, I broke the mold . . .

For years, Ma thanked me on my birthday for sparing her “having 10 or 12 kids.” By their neighbourhood’s standards, 4 was a smallish, manageable family. I went home to Nanny whilst Ma recuperated--forging a bond that’s lasted, well, very nearly 4 decades now. But the day she got out of hospital, Ma appeared at Nanny’s “to take my son home.” After an hour’s debate--how on earth did she walk up 5 flights after major surgery--Ma agreed to leave me there “for the weekend.” And picked me up promptly Sunday afternoon.

Downside: near death, major surgery, fear
Upside: family planning, I got 2 mothers (Nanny and Ma) instead of just one

I’m a lucky boy.