I definitely liked the story about The Glass Castle much more than Stephan King’s. I feel like it grasped my attention more. It created more imagery in my head, so I could better understand that. It was a very creative story. I mean, a three year old cooking their own food? Definitely unrealistic but I think that’s what made it so interesting. The scene I could imagine the most was where she was on fire, and then the scene when she was in the hospital. The author described very clearly the removing of the bandages, and how the fire swarmed around her, and then when her mother threw the wool blanket on top. I found the story of Stephan King much more boring, maybe because it just wasn’t my type of reading. I will definitely look into reading this book because I really got into that single excerpt.
One memory I will never forget, was the moment of my baby brothers birth. Now, although I wasn’t able to witness the birth because I was only 13, I saw him moments after. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
My grandma had gotten a call around 2am, saying that my mother had just gotten out of surgery. She had to have a cesarean birth because his head was stuck in her hip bone. I asked my stepdad about it and he said he looked over at her, and saw all of her insides laying out on a table. The doctors started to get a little worried because she was bleeding more than they would’ve anticipated, so they had to get a special medication in her to slow the bleeding down, and this was also a sign that they needed to hurry up the procedure. After two hours of surgery, we could finally head to the hospital and see our new family member.
Mark Allen Platt II was his name. Born 2/22/12, at 22:22. A little ironic with all those twos right? Anyways, he had the biggest blue eyes and the softest face I’ve ever seen. He looked like an angel. As he slept away in his little blue crate, we set a teddy bear in there, that he, to this day, still sleeps with. I traded up a little. It’s just so magnificent that all of us were once this little and innocent.
A day later we were all back at home safe and sound. Boy was that a wild ride, but this was just the beginning. We discovered that the baby had talked after his father, who has sleep apnea, and as you know, this could be very dangerous for a little one. My mom, being very paranoid and worried, went out and bought this super high tech baby monitor. A couple days later they went back to he doctor and they said there was nothing they could do because he was so little. They said hopefully he will grow out of it, some patients do. But all we could do was keep a close eye on him.
The change to our family was like hurricane Katrina just swept away New Orleans. It was one dramatic change, but at the same time we couldn’t be happier. Cleaning up the vomit and the bed sheets was sort of like cleaning up the town or the fallen tree branches after the storm. Seeing the end result was all that matters. You’ve made it past the hurdle and that’s the most spectacular part.
As days went on, he slowly started sleeping and crying less and less. Which meant my parents got more sleep, so everyone was a little less cranky. My grandma would come over every day to see the little guy. Watching him grow has been the greatest gift I could’ve ever asked for. It’s simply amazing.