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Posted on September 14, 2010 by June

I was born into what was then a relatively new section of Chicago in the northwest outskirts. It was made up of neat rows of brick two flats, one after the other on the parallel streets, with commercial development along North Avenue. I made my entrance into life in an upstairs bedroom on a very hot June day after a prolonged labor during which the doctor accused my mother of not pushing hard enough to deliver me more promptly.

As it was later revealed, I was wedged in the birth channel sideways, so when the doctor pulled me out thinking he had grasped a leg, it was really my right arm. I was at first not conscious and my right arm hung limply at my side. Fortunately, though I weighed only four pounds, to my mother and father’s great relief, I started to cry.

Over the years they told me many times of how thrilled and happy they were to have their little girl. I was told they carried me around on a pillow, so afraid were they of injuring me. Poor Mom was furious with the doctor and accused him of incompetence; however, suing was not was as common as it is now, so they dutifully massaged my arm according to medical advice until it regained partial restoration and we all went on with life. Though my entrance to life was challenging, I had a treasure not available to all: loving parents.