My Zodiac Sign is Scorpio

November 10, 1969–9:31am–Dunmore, Pennsylvania

My mother fell asleep within seconds because pain medication makes her “feel funny”. Doctors used forceps to yank me out of there. Mom blames my stubborn streak and big head.

I just wanted to avoid the Nixon administration.

Everyone “ooh’d” and “ahh’d” even though, let’s face it, I was a funny lookin’ kid. Nana and Aunt Mimi, both nurses, were available to beam. Bio Dad was off in Germany getting drunk.

Within hours, hospital administration carried me back into my mom’s room with all the necessary equipment a newborn needed back in the Dark Ages. They must have looked ridiculous.

“Noreen, we have a problem,” they said. “Catherine is disturbing other infants in the nursery. While I realize you need peace and quiet, so does everyone else. Those babies can’t sleep with all her chatter.”

My mother was speechless. Who complains about an infant after only five hours? How bad could her little angel be?

“Catherine is going to sleep in here from now on,” the doctor said. “Good luck – she’s all yours.”

Once in my mother’s arms, I stopped fussing immediately – content with love and constant attention. This theme would repeat itself in various ways for the rest of my life.

Here’s to forty years of keeping it real.