Today I'm 38. (for those of you who follow my blog I actually thought I was 38 last year and was so happy to get a year back!) In the past I've written about birthday traditions, posted fun shots of me in Vegas and shared some lame family photos. But, today I really am 38. nothing special about this birthday but, it's the day I was born. There's a story behind every person and how they came into the world.
This is my story.
My mom and dad were living in a Canada and they just had my sister Elizabeth Sunshine (pretty name right?) My sis was 6 months old when they found out they were pregnant with me. (After having 3 kids of my own…I realize how crazy it must of felt to be adding a second, when you're first is still a baby.)
My dad was from Uruguay (small country just below Brazil) and after several years in Canada, they packed up or sold everything they owned and moved to Montevideo (the Capital.) Beautiful beaches. Tons of Latin family. A fresh start. A lot of hard work and impossible transitions.
I made my first international trip at 13 weeks...I mean my mom was 13 weeks pregnant with me. My Mom's life was about to radically change and so was mine.
We landed into a new country, with a new language, a new culture, a new family…well, you get the point.
My dad went to work to support us and my mom took care of Elizabeth and learned spanish on the streets: markets, conversations, tv and living with family.
I can't imagine what it was like. Can you? In this new place I grew.
Incredible adventure mixed with scary unknowns…all the while she's caring for the baby in her arms and the baby in her belly.
I was born on March 5th, 1976, six months after they arrived in Uruguay. My mom delivered in a small hospital where none of the medical staff spoke english. Thankfully my dad was there to translate…but again, labor and delivery is hard enough let alone not being able to understand anyone trying to help you.
They named me: Noemi Isabel Albojer (what a mouthful…but I guess that's appropriate because I always have something to say! )
My name actually means: pleasant, consecrated to God. I like that.
I was born without hair and didn't have much for the first year of my life.
Now the plot thickens...Elizabeth was 15 months and I was a newborn and we moved into the building my dad had renovated…the paint was still fresh when we came home.
My first bed? A suitcase.
Red hair and brown eyes…fair skin and a perfect nose.
After 6 months my parents were now expecting my younger sister Cindi and decided that they would prefer Canada. So after was born, we made the long trek back and started over again.
So why the spanish name? Elizabeth was born in Canada when they thought they were staying there. I was born in Uruguay so they gave me a spanish name thinking they would be staying. By the time they had Cindi, they knew they were coming back. So, I'm the only one in the family with a spanish name. They meant well. :)
In the midst of my dad setting up a new business and raising 3 girls…along came my brother. They had 4 kids in 5 years and moved back and forth between countries twice. They were brave. They worked hard. They did the best they could.
I love where I came from. Latin culture explains a lot about me and my personality.
This story is messy but…that's okay...it's mine.
Noone's story is perfect.
You know what you can give me for a birthday present? Leave a comment and tell me something unique about your birth story.