My story matters...

Here's the whole story:

Although I am the oldest child, on my Dad’s side of the family I am the thirty ninth grandchild, so to them my coming was a fairly routine event. On the other hand I was the first grandchild on my mom’s side. However, since Grandma and Grandpa still had 7 children at home ranging in age all the way down to less than a year old, they were almost too busy to be excited about becoming grandparents. Nonetheless, my parents were thrilled. They’d spent so much time playing with my Aunt Saralyn (3 months old when they married) that no one was surprised when they announced that they were pregnant a few months later.
The pregnancy was rather uneventful—Mom was never sick and in fact enjoyed being pregnant. They were very poor, but managed to purchase a few things for the baby, but not much as Mom did not like yellow and ultrasounds were not around when I was born.
Although I was due on July 2nd, after three days in labor, I was born via C-section on July 27th. The doctor figured that Mom was just too young to have her dates right. I weighed 9 lbs, 15 ozs and Mom said I looked a month old from day one. After 10 days in the hospital (it took Mom a while to recover) we came home to the little apartment behind Grandma and Grandpa’s house. No one came to “help” Mom—she had Dad; and they have always believed that having the Daddy take care of the Mommy and the new baby is a wonderful way to grow closer as a family.