Every one of us is unique. I know it doesn’t seem like it in this day of virtual competition on social media and fitting in with the analytics and algorithms of organic and machine search but what I am saying is first and foremost truthful.

Joseph Campbell in some of his discussions mentioned mythology as a great way to get in touch with who you are. He professed that every one of us start out as heroes because we made it through birth. If you aren’t familiar with Joseph Campbell, get yourself familiar with him because he was a great storyteller and understood the importance of using the various mythologies to get the story told. He is famous for saying, “Follow Your Bliss.”

So let’s start here. Use these five simple questions to ask yourself or someone you love getting their birth story.

1. Where were you born?

2. How long did your birth take?

3. Did you have any siblings?

4.   Do you have pictures, a scrapbook or any memorabilia to help you remember?

5.   How would you describe your essence?

The funny things about memories are that if we are quiet within ourselves, unconscious stories will pop up and float into our consciousness. Record what you are thinking and feeling, write or draw what you are feeling. Give yourself a word or a phrase that identifies YOU. This word, this phrase is the centering around your story, and it is a powerful way to tell your stories and start you on knowing you as a work of art. If you listen to yourself or the person who is answering the question, the memories will flood into your hearts.

I’ll use my oldest daughter as an example because her birthday is Monday.

I was living in Chicago with my husband, Paul. Katie was going to be our first child. She was going to be the first grandchild. We had no idea what sex because we didn’t want to know. All I know is that if she were going to be a girl, she would be called either Katherine or Jacqueline.

I wanted her born at home, but the extended family was not comfortable with this at all. This baby was the first grandchild on both sides. I gave my permission to have a Dr. deliver Katie naturally at a birth clinic. Dr. Fred was one of the few M.D.’s who got schooled in natural delivery from Washington State.

Katie was born in Chicago. She was born at home in the dining and living rooms. Katie’s birth took about two hours, but I can’t just leave you hanging at this because her birth story is lovely, so I am telling it to you.

It was Palm Sunday thirty-four years ago. I was working as an Occupational Therapist at St. Mary’s and we were going into Spring Vacation. Katie wasn’t due for a few more weeks. Fred assured me this is what typically happens with the firstborn.

My Mom came for brunch, and we went out to have a fabulous one at Jerome’s. I loved Jeromes. It is no longer there in Lincoln Park, but it had been a place for incredible food. I had worked there for a few months as a waitress before I married Paul, so I had a softness in my heart for their California Chicken Salad with almonds and Major Grey’s Chutney sauce.  We had such a great time. It was a rare early spring day with sunshine, and all three of us were in good humor.  I had gas and didn’t feel like myself, but I thought it was just because I was in beached whale effect. Mom stayed most of the afternoon and then left.

Paul and I were tired, so we climbed into bed early and watched the movie, Gigi, with Leslie Caron and Louis Jourdan. The end of the film was happening and the song, Thank Heaven For Little Girls was being sung by Maurice Chevalier when my Dad called. He called because he said he had a hunch that I was going to have the baby tonight. I told him, “NO WAY, Dad.” I had just seen Fred, and he didn’t think I would deliver until after Easter. Dad and I chit chatted, and at the end of the conversation, he told me to take care of myself.

NO joke but the minute we hung up, I felt sick to my stomach.  I decided I would take a bath. But being in the water was uncomfortable for me, so I stood up. That’s when I realized this might be contractions. I told Paul, and we called Fred who told me to lay down and when the contractions came frequently, call him.

Paul and I laid down. I was laying on my left side facing the wall. Every time I had a contraction I squeezed Paul’s hand because the contractions were so awkward and unusual. Maybe painful but I have such a high pain tolerance that it was hard for me to be clear. About 45 minutes later I heard a splat, and it was my water bag that flew out of me and hit the wall. Paul called Fred. Fred said he’d meet us at the birthing center and Paul ran up and down our 2nd floor flat to gather what we needed so we could go.

I saw the blankets and the sleeping bags in the middle of the dining and living rooms. I had a flannel half-buttoned shirt on when I had to lay down. I laid down. Paul came upstairs, and I told him I couldn’t go any further. He kneeled down. My feet were flat on the floor, and my knees up and spread out. “Yep,” Paul said, “I see the head.” He went to wash his hands and barely made it back when Katie came shooting out. Paul caught her. Her umbilical cord was long and wrapped around her neck. She was purple. Paul was telling me this in a calm voice as he gently unwrapped the umbilical cord so she could breathe. I think Paul gently patted her and she started breathing on her own. He gave her to me, and she immediately latched on to nurse.

Paul called Fred who came to our house as did his midwife, Martha.  Blood on the bed. Blood on the blankets. Blood everywhere. Martha cleaned all of that while Paul and I called our parents to tell them the good news. Paul’s father thought it was a boy because Paul’s father had delivered Paul in much the same way. “No,” Paul said, “it was a girl. It’s Katherine Anne.” My Dad was pleased that he was right. Mom was happy that she had seen me that day. Fred looked at her vitals and said for us to go to the clinic tomorrow to make sure she was checked-out officially. Fred sutured me up because Katie came too quickly and I tore. Then we toasted Katie and Fred having the same birthday, and we went to bed, while Martha and Fred saw themselves out. It was three in the morning.

Katie is the first of three girls I had. There are many photographs and videos so I can make as many family legacy stories as possible. Her word, her phrase – she’s a purple shooting star that follows her true north. And that’s the path she walks. And a joy to have her as my daughter.

What’s the birth story you want to remember?