My baby was not expected to be born until January 11, so it was quite a surprise when my water broke during Christmas Day gift-opening at my in-laws' home. Six hours after the floodgates opened, my daughter Kelly was born, at 6:49 PM. During my labor, Kelly's father, Perry, was being treated to a complete turkey dinner in the hospital's cafeteria. Back in 1971, fathers rarely joined in with the birth process, and in fact, Perry was ushered out of the labor room while I was rushed to the delivery room. There were no other babies being born at Sequoia Hospital in Redwood City that night. Slow night, slow period for births, in general. The process went so fast, that it even took the nurses by surprise. My doctor arrived just in the nick of time, interrupted during a holiday gathering, dressed up with Christmas tie, to help escort Kelly into the world. The best gift ever!
Through the years, there were the usual comments about how babies born on December 25 get short-changed in the gift and attention department. Either that, or the gifts were piled on, two-fold.
When Kelly was 7, she wanted her birthday to be celebrated in June. Honoring her wishes, we did so, but by Christmas, she changed her mind, so we celebrated again.
There are several December birthdays in my family. My mother, 2 brothers, sister-in-law, and I were all born in the 12th month, so have been used to having our birthdays overshadowed by the biggest holiday of the year. But each December 25, before I wish my daughter a "Merry Christmas", I wish her a "Happy Birthday" - Kelly's birthday, and the best day of my life.