My mom was having Christmas dinner when the REAL labor pains hit. Being her fourth, this time around there was no sudden panic or rushing to the hospital at the first sign of labor. She went to her mother-in-laws house, helped set the table, waddled around to her seat, and enjoyed a wonderful, albeit periodically painful, Christmas dinner.
At seven o'clock on the 25th of December, the pains got worse, and she knew it was time to go to the hospital. Calmly packing up the presents, leaving three other kids at the in-laws to spend the night, she and her husband drove the ten miles across Detroit to have another baby.
After they arrived, this being 1967, they took my mother to the back while my dad stayed in the lobby with the other fathers. Not much pacing, as this was becoming routine, my dad just sat with the other guys and talked football.
An hour and a half later, the doors to the waiting room burst open, and a nurse announced to my father that my mother had a son. The second boy after a girl, then boy then another girl.
Soon he was able to stop by and say hi to his newest addition, and for reasons never fully divulged to me other than the fact that there had never been one before, they decided to name me Kevin.
Yes, a birthday on Christmas is special and it sucks. It's cool to be born on such a universally meaningful day, and yes the lights and carols are especially appreciated. I wasn't born in a manger, and I didn't have livestock attending my birth. I don't even remember my size, 'cause at the time I couldn't quite write it down. But still, whenever someone asks "why don't you celebrate your birthday in June or something" I always say "Because I wasn't born in June." It's my birthday, I'll stick with it.
It does suck because the presents were always combined, so I'd get a larger present but fewer of them. And it sucks never having a birthday party at school, or trying to have a party even NEAR your birthday because everyone's all hyped up about getting presents for others. But the worst part? The absolutely, unquestionably, without a doubt worst part of being born on December 25?