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I'M BORN (PHEW!)
I suppose if we're going to start at the beginning, we should start right at the beginning with the stuff I can't remember. Like my birth. To be honest, the story of my birth is a bit traumatic and definitely not much fun, so I'm going to pass you over to my mum, whose name, by the way, is Maria. She can give you all the gory details.
And just so you've got the full picture, we're at home right now. We're sitting on the yellow leather couch in our living room, and we're drinking tea. In my house, the kettle is always on, and someone is always asking, "Who wants a cup of tea?" And it's usually my dad, whose name is James.
Dad makes a wicked cup of tea.
Anyway, Mum's trying to look serious, but it never lasts long. A smile is twitching at the corner of her mouth. She's screwing up her chocolate brown eyes, and now she's laughing. Her laugh makes me want to laugh, too.
"Charl...," she says.
Everyone in my family calls me Charl.
"I'm trying to be serious. Do you want to hear about this or not?"
I try to look serious, too, but it's no good.
Soon we're laughing so hard that Dad comes in to see what all the fuss is about. I guess my laugh is like a higher-pitched version of Mum's. Sometimes when we're laughing together, Dad puts his hands over his ears.
"I thought you two were meant to be doing some work," he says.
"We are," I tell him.
"Really?" he says, meaning "I don't believe a word of it."
He leaves us to it.
Mum takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes. "First of all," she says, "you were a beautiful baby. You had a very good appetite, and it's an absolute bloody miracle you're with us at all."
I was born a month after Mum's twentieth birthday. "It was a very, very difficult birth. In the week before you were born, I'd had three false labors. At the time, I was living with your nan and bampy. It was Friday, February 21, 1986, when the labor pains started, and it must have been about one in the morning. By eight that morning they were coming every ten minutes. That's when I knew it was time.
"I went into Bampy and Nan's bedroom to tell them. Your nan told me to go back to sleep, but I knew you were coming.
"'Mum. Really. I need to get to the hospital,' I said.
"It was a very cold February, and there was black ice on the roads, but Bampy drove me at top speed to St. David's Hospital. When we got to the hospital, I was made to sit in the waiting room with all the other expectant mums.
"The pain got worse.
"Then I was put in a bed on the labor ward, and I was in labor for most of the day. My friend Katherine came to visit, my mum was there, and so was Auntie Francis [Nan's sister], who got me hysterical with laughter, although I can't remember why.
"Anyway, by ten o'clock that night I still wasn't dilating, and the midwife didn't know why. I remember being in a lot of distress. Then, when it seemed it couldn't get any worse, I had an asthma attack. It was the first asthma attack I'd had since I was fourteen.
"I couldn't breathe. I remember feeling very panicked and frightened. I was attached to a monitor, and I can still remember watching your heartbeat getting slower and slower and slower until it stopped.
"Then-oh, my God, it was panic stations.
"'Right, emergency cesarean now,' said the doctor, and that was it.
"I was put on a trolley, and they ran with me down the hall to the operating theater. I remember seeing the lights spinning overhead and seeing the faces of the doctors and nurses running alongside and hearing the double doors crashing open and closing behind us. Then a mask came over my face and someone said, ĪCount to ten.'
"I got to three. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hall on a stretcher. A nurse was pushing me, and I turned to see you beside me in a crib.
"I remember feeling cheated. I had been through twenty-two hours of labor, and I even remember saying, 'I don't want a cesarean.' But I had no choice. Anyway, you were lucky to be alive. If we'd been living a hundred years ago, you wouldn't have made it. But I don't want to think about that. You were so beautiful...."
"All right, Mum. You've already said that."
"But you were. Your skin was perfect. You're weren't wrinkly because you hadn't had all the stress of coming through the birth canal. . . ."
"Ugh."
"You weighed six pounds and fourteen ounces. You had startling blue eyes and rosebud lips. You were such a good feeder that I breast-fed you for fourteen months.
"When I took you home, though, I was still recovering from the cesarean and couldn't change a diaper. It was three days before I could lean over and change your diaper, and I remember feeling such a sense of achievement when I did it...."
"Have you finished?"
"Oh, and when you were three weeks old, we had you christened by Father Delaney at the local parish church, St. Mary's."
Phew.
So there you have it.
I'm born.
My adopted dad, James Church, has brought me up since I was three and has legally adopted me, which is why I have his name.
Next I want to tell you about my hometown of Cardiff.
Copyright (c) 2001 Charlotte Church
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Book Description Hardcover. Condition: New. Dust Jacket Condition: New. As New Copy. Pages lightly toned. Other free of any blemishes or defects. Seller Inventory # Bio 63