52 years ago today, my brother Charles was born. He was almost born in the car. He came 10 minutes after we arrived at the doctor's clinic in Chaffee MO. We had to drive all the way from Cape Girardeau because Dad had found a doctor who would deliver preachers' kids free.
I remember the event well. It's hard for an 8-year-old boy ever to forget watching and hearing his mother in agonizing labor. It didn't help hearing Mom and Dad talk about maybe having to deliver the baby in the car. Maybe this is why I never had any inkling of a desire to be a Gynecologist.
Mom had grown tired of being pregnant. The night before Charles was born, she took castor oil, an old family recipe for hastening births. I have other extended family members who have tried the same elixir. My guess is, Charles came when he wanted to, without regard for any liquid influence. I know I could be wrong. I often am.
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