I was born February 19th, 1991 in Snelville, Georgia. I was born late (I don't remember exactly how late, but I think it was something like two weeks overdue). My mother went into labor on the 18th, but then stopped, so they gave her drugs to induce the labor. Supposedly after some time they could take her off it and it would go on, only every time they took her off it, the labor stopped as well. She stayed in the hospital for over 24 hours before the doctor decided she needed an emergency C section. (Ha, a nurse came in before the C section, looked at my mother, and said "You're still here?" My mother's still not fond of that.) I was born 10 minutes later at 7:15 am. I was the biggest baby (9 lbs 7 ounces, 21") until the last day when a 10 lbs baby was born. Because of my size, the blood vessels in my left leg were (and still are) visible, and my feet pointed in at an absurd angle. The pigeon-toe thing was corrected (over-corrected actually, but that's only noticeable when I'm wearing heels without backs), and my mother has offered the laser surgery to have the blood vessels removed, but I don't mind them.
My little brother (May 10, 1993) was born at the same hospital with the same doctors. He was born via C section too; the logic was that babies got bigger each time, and as I was the first child, he was going to be huge. He was actually smaller than me (6 lbs, some-odd ounces if I remember correctly), but they said that if he had been born normally, he would have died. The birth cord was wrapped around his neck; he would have been strangled. So the C section was good.
Interestingly enough, my brother and I are exact opposites, and our mother treated her pregnancies in opposite ways too. I was her first child, but she had miscarriaged before and there were some minor complications early on, so she was worried that she would lose me as well; as a a result, she laid down every time she got tired, didn't do much work, and generally just made sure to be as careful as she could. With my brother, she was in the process of moving; she didn't have time to lay down and rest. We really are exact opposites, even when we were babies (for instance, I was more of a passive child, whereas he was up and moving before he was even supposed to be able to do so. And our habits were different too - for instances, I refused to take a pacifier or my thumb (if by some off chance someone managed to give me a pacifier, I would throw it back at them), and he didn't break the habit until he was around 5). I'm sure a lot of it has to do with our respective personalities, but I wonder if it had anything to do with the setting.
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"Nothing worth having is easy."
Three years!