My life began in 1945, but not precisely at birth. I was a large baby and my mother was small which led to great difficulties for us both. I got stuck on the way out, unable to breathe and ended up as a “blue baby”. When the midwife finally managed to get me out, she told my mother, “the baby is dead,” tossed aside the lump of flesh and proceeded to take care of my mother who was bleeding excessively.
Due to the unexpected difficulties, a doctor was summoned to assist. He arrived at the same time I did and verified that I was deceased. My mother kept staring at me through tearful eyes and saw a finger move. She screamed, “He’s alive!” The physician and midwife using antiquated CPR practices eventually restored my normal breathing.
