Birth

I was born on a Saturday evening in October 1958. My arrival interrupted an important football game and this became part of my birth story. From this I learned that I was an interruption, an inconvenience.

Those were the days when fathers were not involved in their children`s births, and mothers were sedated and kept in hospital for several days to recover, with limited access to their babies. With my older brother, Mom tried to establish breast feeding when she arrived home from hospital, but with no support, it was too late. Mom didn't even try with me.

I was named Patricia in honour of Mom`s sister and Anne in honour of Dad`s sister, two good women.

I know nothing about my early life. I can only surmise that I must have been a cranky baby. When I had my children, my mother passed on to me the clothes that I had worn as an infant. The clothes were all wool (which I`m allergic to) and other itchy stiff fabrics that I wouldn't think of putting anywhere near an infant.

When I was two months old and Billy was two, Dad was posted to Germany and off we went on an ocean liner with me in a padded butcher`s basket. I can only imagine how miserable my mother must have been.