being alive

Today we had three more quick assignments on our birth. The first was a simple recount of that event.

"Yeah, but you didn't." That's what I always say to people who say they almost or could have died at some point. "You're here, now." 'Cause they say I could have. But imagine that. My whole two minutes of life flashing before me -- birth canal, birth canal, light, cry -- yeah. So actually, it wasn't a big deal, but I had mucus in my throat, which after research, I still forget what it's called, but it's feces in there. Then the doctors got it out and set me right by slapping me and all was well. More importantly, my dad was jumping up and down yelling, "It's a girl, it's a girl!" I asked later and I am proud to say that when, eight years later, my brother, with Dad's second wife, was born, there was no jumping.

Then we had to write about how our birth somehow relates to who we are now.

I took a long time to come out. My mom was in labor for 36-1/2 hours. I finally came out around 3:00 in the afternoon on a sunny April day. You see, I do what I want. I guess I just wasn't ready to come out of my warm little cocoon, so I didn't. But when I came around, it was great. They called me "The Amazing Blonde Baby" at the hospital because I came out with a full head of blonde hair. I try to connect this event with my other characteristics, like sticktoitiveness, but mostly, like my astrological sign, Taurus, I'm a bull. That sounds a little masculine and way arrogant, but if my birth were not an indication of who I would later grow up to be, I don't know what is.

Then we had to write about our birth from someone else's perspective. I wanted to be silly and a little edgy, so it's from God's POV.

The day before, I induced labor pains. They never can tell in the beginning if it's going to be an easy or a hard birth. But I believe it should go one way or the other and for a reason. It's a very important moment, which begins an enormous responsibility. That's why the first is always worst and after that, it's easier. After the second or third, I just let them pop right out. But sometimes it has to be meaningful. This one had to count, and it had to be hard enough to render the baby forever an only child. That's what I had it take so long. Who would want to go through that again?

Then I had to write about my name, but that's boring and basically it is that my mom asked the people at her baby shower and someone suggested "Alicia" and she liked it a lot, the end.