Look at that mush...this photo sat in the front window of the photo store I used for developing the 814 rolls of film I shot of this little beauty.

My oldest daughter is sixteen today. Yep…the big one-six. From here on out, life gets interesting. Learning to drive, graduating high school, and the other milestone birthdays that are just around the corner – 18, 21, 25.

But for now, she’s sweet sixteen. Actually, it’s not official until around 9:00 pm Teaneck, NJ time. She was breech, and I was scheduled for a C-section on August 16th, I believe. But on the evening of the 14th, after eating a big bowl of pasta, I realized that I had not felt her move much that day. Or the day before.

Not wanting to take any chances, I called my doctor who told me to come into the office. My husband was at work, and I was told to call him and have him come as well. After a brief examination, they decided to deliver her that night.

Her birth was weird for me. The spinal was murderously painful, and after she was born, they showed me a set of puffy eyes peeking out of a wrap job that resembled a mummy more than a newborn and whisked her, and my husband away.

While I sat on the operating table trying to absorb the notion that I was now a mother, the doctors talked about their golf scores and the Yankees while they closed me up. It was as if I wasn’t even in the room…I also got the impression that there were other things these guys would much rather be doing than turning me into a parent.

Once back in the room I felt like crap – the morphine couldn’t come fast enough. I have no recollection of the staff bringing my daughter to me to nurse or to see or to hold until the next morning. By then she wanted nothing whatsoever to do with my boobs other than rest her head on them. The nurses gave me no instruction or encouragement. Needless to say, she was bottle fed.

On the way home the first song we heard on the radio was Todd Rundgren’s “I Saw the Light” and to this day I consider that Sammy’s song. My husband, a music fanatic, vehemently disputes this – but it is her song.

She was a beautiful, cheerful, pleasant baby…hardly fussy at all. The perfect kid to break in a set of brand new, somewhat worrywart parents. And 16 years later she is still the same. With a lot more hair.

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