The delivering doctor's name on my son's birth certificate is Col. (military abbreviation for Colonel) Buttmiller. When I picked up his birth certificate, I burst out, "Who in the HELL is He?" I specifically remember that Saturday afternoon, Dr. Enriquez is who delivered my baby! (That's pronounced "Enrique" like Enrique Iglesias, but I've verified his name had a Z at the end). I considered to have his birth cert 'corrected'. Turns out that Dr. Enriquez was a resident. On this day at 1:08 pm every year, I think about him. Even though the official papers don't recognize his contribution to my life, I sincerely appreciate it and will never forget him. One thing I specifically remember about him is that he was Hilarious! I guess a sense of humor is not a prerequisite to be an ob/gyn. But then again, it's a requirement isn't it?
I have to tell you this to setup the story of how funny he was. Since this was my first child, I depended a lot on friends to tell me what to expect. Somebody advised my that I wouldn't get anything to eat regardless how many hours I was in labor. So I planned as I packed my bag, I was going to get something to eat before I left home. I was even at my bff Mary's house one day when false labor started and I literally ran home to get something to eat. Well that was a great plan that went out the window when labor awakened me about 3:30 Saturday morning. I paced, laid back down, got back up and paced some more. Back and forth, in and out of bed for about three hours.
Fast forward to the hospital about noon. Dr. Enriquez came to check on me and found I was only (some #) centimeters. He announced that he was going to lunch. I asked him to bring me a ham sandwich. He snickered, "Sure I will". Fast forward again to when Dr. Enriquez came back from lunch. He said that he 'forgot' to bring my sandwich, then he sounded out "Whoa, it's Time to Go!!!". At 1:08, pop pop, it was all over. Then again, that was just the beginning.
Happy Birthday, my son. And thank you Dr. Enriquez.