Happy birthday to me!

Today is my 52nd birthday. Not quite as traumatic as turning 50, and I don't feel too close yet to the fateful second half of my 50's.

I had not really pondered over the rather difficult circomstances surrounding my birth in a really long time, but got this birthday message from my French uncle (my father's last living sibbling, who is now 76 years old, a retired physician and a Renaissance man):

Original French:
"En ces jours d'anniversaire je repasse le film de ta naissance. Déclenchement prématuré du travail pour insertion basse du placenta et accouchement à domicile au 41 rue Gabriel Péri; faible poids de naissance 1kg 700 (? il faudra que je rafraîchisse ma mémoire sur le terme prévu).

En attendant d'intégrer le service de prématurés de la maternité de l'hôpital de Roubaix dans les jours suivants, avec ton père nous sommes allés louer une "couveuse" chez Viviez rue Esquermoise à Lille. Il s'agissait d'une caisse de bois peinte en blanc avec couvercle en verre et orifices d'aération, très rudimentaire, certains ayant pu se contenter jusque là d'une boîte à chaussures.

Avec ton parrain nous avons pris la garde la première nuit. Nous étions assis à la table de la cuisine en train de lire ou de travailler, moi je préparais l'internat. Ton père est descendu voir à plusieurs repprises. Je revois encore ton parrain te regardant respirer par la vitre. Nous ne parlions guère...

Le lendemain tu étais hospitalisée et tes parents allaient chaque jour à l'hôpital de la Fraternité à Roubaix conduire le lait maternel extrait au tire-lait."

English translation:
"In these days when you celebrate your birthday, I am replaying the film of your birth in my head. The labor was triggered by the low position of the placenta, and you were delivered at home, 41 rue Gabriel Péri; low birth weight 1kg 700 (? I will have to refresh my memory about the anticipated delivery date.)

While waiting to have you admitted to the premies ward of the maternity hospital in Roubaix within the next few days, your father and I went to rent an "incubator" at Viviez's on rue Esquermoise in Lille. It was a wooden box painted white, with a glass lid and breathing holes, very rudimentary, some people having probably done with a shoe box until then.

With your godfather [note: my father's and uncle's brother] we kept watch during the first night. We were seated at the kitchen table, reading or working, I was preparing for my residency. Your father came down several times to check on things. I can still see your godfather looking at you breathing through the glass. We were not talking to each other...

On the next day, you were admitted to the hospital, and your parents would go every day to the Fraternity Hospital in Roubaix to bring your mother's milk."

Notes to my uncle's narrative: I was born 2½ months early, weighing actually 1.37 kilos (3.0 lbs), and weighed only 3.87 kilos (8.5 lbs) by the time I was six months old. I know this because my mother kept a chart documenting my weight for the first two years of my life, from September 1952 to August 1954. She gave this chart to me after I got married.

Needless to say that this must have been a very stressful time for my entire family; I was also told that I was baptized by my other uncle, Jean, who was a priest (and later became bishop of Annecy) immediately after my birth (because Catholics believe that babies, being born with the original sin, go to this amorphous place called limbo if they die before having been baptized.) My father also made sure to have me written into the register of births at the Marcq-en-Baroeul City Hall, because he wanted to make sure that I would be recorded as a living child -- even if he had to declare my death soon thereafter, which he was convinced he might have to do.

In fact, my parents, not being sure that I would live, did not send birth announcements after I was born but, when I returned home from the hospital on November 5, 1952, they sent out this announcement:



It says: "François-Xavier is happy to announce that his little sister Elisabeth, born and baptized on September 4, 1952, came back home on this November 5. From Mr. and Mrs. Etienne Sauvage-Jardez. Marcq-en-Baroeul, 41 rue Gabriel Péri."

I feel very blessed, indeed, to have survived this ordeal. Being born under those circumstances (at home, and very prematurely) did not bode well for a baby's survival in the early 1950's in France, so I definitely beat the odds! And, even though I am a staunch pro-choice advocate, I have very strong reservations against late-term abortions, especially since there are many alternatives to it, ranging from sound contraception, to the use of the "morning after pill," to an abortion performed within the first few weeks of pregnancy.