My earliest memory was…
when my sister, Rachel, was born.
Now I’ve been told that this may be a false memory due to the fact that I’ve seen the video of her birth and been told about it so often, but I don’t believe this. Sure, I was just barely two years old, but I’ve always had a good memory, especially for sounds and smells. I clearly remember our babysitter holding me and being upset that she wouldn’t put me down. I remember the walls and windows. Was there a window looking into the birthing room? Maybe. I remember wanting to sit with my mommy on her bed, and I remember my dad saying “It’s another girl!”
Rachel’s birth was special for a number of reasons. She was the first baby born at this particular hospital to have her whole family present at her birth. They had just built their new family birthing center, and Rachel’s was the first birth to get the “whole family” experience. This was a big enough deal to make a full-page article in the local newspaper, of which my dad apparently kept more than 20 copies, which I discovered when going through a box of his keepsakes.
The second reason Rachel’s birth was important was that my parents had decided that she would be the last of our brood. My parents were really big into natural family planning. In fact, each of us had been very precisely spaced using the ole’ temperature chart method. I laugh at this because it’s another science thing, and that’s exactly how my dad would have it, although my mom was obviously in agreement. 
Anywho, after having four beautiful children, spaced 2-3 years apart, they decided that our clan was complete ,and my dad scheduled himself for a vasectomy. Or maybe my mom made him. I’m not sure on that one. My older sister, Sarah, told me once that she remembers the day he had the procedure because she wasn’t allowed to sit on his lap. I’ll have to take her word on that one, as that detail did not make its way into my memory.
So on that warm August day in 1986, my mischievous, notorious, hilarious, sweet, sensitive, creative partner-in-crime entered my sphere. For years we were rivals, which is a story for another time, but now I am blessed by her every day, and she totally deserves to be my first memory.
LOVE YOU, RACHEL!
Blessings!
Hannah
***Note: This was attempt 2036.5 to get myself out of my trauma-created writer’s block. I got myself a new resource to give me ideas, so, again, my goal is to write every day. Even if it is just a sentence, I do not want this traumatic time in my life to silence me. Nope!***
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