Summer 1988. I'm standing with my mom, Edna, and her mother Esther is seated and holding baby Michael. His arrival magically turned me into a mother and Edna into a grandmother on the same day.
I'm guessing this is 1958, I'm the chubby baby in my mom's lap. To the left is her mother Esther, and on the right is her mother, Kari Bleken. I remember the couch, it was a deep red color and prickly to the touch. Also the drapes, I think this was grandma and grandpa's house in Alamo. Great-grandma Kari was one tough cookie. I decided that upon becoming aware that she was pregnant with grandma Esther during the voyage to America in 1908. At the most that would have taken a week to two weeks, but she was in her last month of pregnancy at the time. Then they paused during the overland trek to western North Dakota in Willmar, Minnesota, just long enough for her to give birth. So my grandmother was the first child in her family of eight children to be born in America. I come from genuine pioneer stock. I think they were all a bit disappointed in me for giving birth via C-section. I'm cool with that. At some point you just want to hold them in your arms, and it doesn't really matter how they arrive.
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