.notsoaverage

.andsoitbegins

Its kinda funny how people usually struggle to think of a proper introduction when starting a story. I was just even sitting here on the table with my coffee just thinking of a catchy title for 20 minutes. Even now, I struggle just to even start this story so I'm just going to jump in straight to it after this.

-I don't intend this receive much attention from this.

-I don't really want to my sister reading this (if you find this GTFO hetero!)

-This is more of a therapeutic experiment for me.

-I'm not a good writer.

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I was brought into this world on a cold stormy day. My mother said to me that when she was in labor, the doctor stated that there was a huge chance that one or the both of us would die. I was born 2 months before my due date and I didn't come out like all the babies. I was C-Section because my mother was too ill to deliver me cause she had a really serious flu and my lungs weren't fully developed. As the surgery was starting, a huge storm had caused a blackout for a large amount of the area.

After the surgery was finished, I was put in a box to help me breath and my father came in. The immediately nicked named my Raton (which is spanish for mouse) because I was just so small. To get an idea of how small I was, I weighted 2 lbs and 3 oz. Pretty small huh?

I stayed at the hospital for an addition 2 months in that box until I was strong enough to finally live with my parents.

My dad used to tell me that it was a pain getting me clothes, at the time, there wasn't many places that sold clothes for a baby my size. I was no bigger than my father's forearm. He told me that before I had a crib, they would fit me in a shoe box. You need to understand that I was born in a middle class family, so buying a crib was a little difficult but they found one for an affordable price no later than a week.