I Am Free

Denise Nichols 2009

My mother was told not to get attached to me when I was born. She gave birth to me at twenty-six weeks gestation in 1967 at Womack Army Hospital in Fort Bragg, NC.  So, instead of her having hope that I was to survice, she did exactly what her doctors told her to do. Keep me at a distance. The day my mother took me home, weighing three pounds four ounces, her doctor coldly informed her that I would not survive to the age of one.

I must admit that once I was home, both my father, who had just returned from Vietnam, and my mother took shifts with me. One would have to watch me on the breathing machine all night while the other slept. During my waken hours, I was kept in my nursery completely without sunlight. My mother feared that sunlight would blind me due to birth defects. Thankfully, I don’t remember those days of early development. The list is long as to my many birth defects at that time of the era, and the doctors never gave much hope. But, even at that young, innocent age, my struggle for survival always prevailed in flying colors. Even before I was able to comprehend the art of survival conciously, deep inside my soul was the inate strength to succeed and beat all odds.

The very first picture taken of me was at the age of eighteen months. Mother had a sun bonnet (as usual) and the frilly panties and jumpsuit on me as I took my first steps. That day was my first baby picure, and it was miraculous. Looking at my chubby, swollen face you can see pure determination. I remember that day, weird as it may sound. That day was the first of many first days of my life.

My three brothers and me grew up in Derry, PA. By the age of five, my father moved us to an upscale, middle class neighborhood, along with five acres of land. Two acres were cleared, and the back three acres were woods.  The edge of our front lawn was landscaped with perfectly spaced pine trees, allowing us privacy from the neighbors on the barely traveled street, My brothers and I loved being in our wooden sanctuary in the back of the property. That was were we spent most of our time when our parents were too busy to pay attention.

My eldest brother and me were very close and loving to each other prior to us moving onto Valley Street. Moving day was both exciting and disappointing at the same time for me. We got there as two peas in a pod, but by that same evening, our lives changed forever. Johnny was no longer mybest freind, and it happened in an instant, there was nothing in his eyes, a total blank, except for the deep black marbles with no life in them that was staring straight at me.