My mother bore down and pushed, as stubborn a person as you will ever meet.  she gave birth to a tiny girl, 4 pounds 6, with the cord wrapped around my neck six times.   I fit in my dad's shoe box, they said. 

"She won't live through the night.  Not 24 hours.  She has 48 hours.  She'll be mentally retarded.  She can't live with you, put her in a home.  Let Shriners take her." 

The hospital allowed my father to smoke in my room, because he was such a wreck.  It's not like they could take away his birthday.  

The oxygen deprivation in the womb caused brain damage, which led to....

The seizures began at two, were not under control until three.  That is stretching the truth.  They are still not totally controlled.

Anti-convulsant meds are insidious, slowing my metabolism to bear in hibernation heart-rate speed, and draining energy, desire, motivation.  Over-medicated as a child, my report cards said "Ann often stares off into space.  Could be the medication."

Going to the principal's office to take meds every day on my lunch hour did not make me part of any Cool Kid Crowd.  There were often tears, because of being teased.  

Mother spent a lot of time teaching me to read, because I was supposed to be so retarded.  Somehow I always found myself  in Advanced Reading.

There was more character development I must have needed, because clear skin was not my inheritance.   All the terrible, awful,  very bad things that junior high school boys say to girls that were not Perfection were said to me. When mom took me to the dermatologist, he asked why she waited so long.  Even then, I had a J-Lo body ten years before we would hear about J-Lo! However, curve appeal was not the norm for my family or town, so meeting anyone who appreciated my assets would take a while.