I was an accident due to my father hating using condoms, according to my mother.
I wonder what was playing on the record player at the time …
:eek: You’re 233 years old??
Myself, I tracked back nine months and got June 13, nothing really special about that date or anything anywhere near it, I don’t really care to find out either.
With my sister (bday Dec. 31) my parents have said on occasion that she was a “birthday gift” for my mom (bday Mar. 27). The math works and, since it isn’t me, I can tease her about it. 
My older sister was born in February. After getting up in the middle of the winter to take care of her, my mother decided no more cold weather babies. I was born in June and my younger brother in July.
I happened when my parents were on vacation while my father recuperated from open heart surgery. He wasn’t medically cleared for either travel or sex, but my father was a rebel for his entire life. My mother went with him to a checkup when she was about six months along with me, and the doctor said that my father was finally cleared for sex, then saw my mother and said “but I guess that cat’s out of the bag.”
My mom had German measles when she was a teenager and was told she’d never have kids. She and my dad were married almost 20 years before I came along. She told me that they’d given up on having a kid but kept trying.
Funny story----when she went to her ob/gyn to confirm that she was pregnant [and she knew she was], the doctor said “It’s not a baby. It’s a tumor!” To which now daHubby likes to say in his best Ah-nuld voice “It’s not a tumor!”
An early Father’s Day present?
Flag Day?
A bottle of Jack, a vial of crack and a busted sack is all my mamma told me about the circumstances surrounding the conception of her six kids…well, six she knows about, anyway…
…I kid…
With a nine year lapse after the birth of my brother and sister, I always assumed I was an accident. But, apparently my parents always wanted a third, and planned for me a few years after the original “third” miscarried after my mom fell down a flight of stairs. So, I’m here because my brother left his toy car on the staircase—he’s both a giver and taker of life.
I was born Jan 9th which is nine months after the May 24th Holiday in Canada. That’s a MAJOR drinking for us…not that I was an accident but I’m sure there were extenuating circumstances. Funnily enough my daughter was born Jan 16 so I must have inherited their love of springtime fucking. Much like this guy http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gRhPeJ3uzOc
Hey, wow! I was conceived on Sept. 30/Oct. 1! I think.
I know some of the story. I think it was in a car in a parking lot–which my father once pointed out to me by saying, “That’s where you were born.” My mother refused to tell my father that he got her pregnant, & he married someone else the day before I was born, unaware he was a father.
I am born in September. My father said once “Christmas season before you were born it was cold and snowy and mom and I didn’t go out much.”
The minute he left the room I looked at mom and laughed. “I know what you did in-ste-ed” I sing-songed.
My son, well he was concieved on my grandmothers birthday. While I was on the phone with her. (No I don’t want my son to ever find out! Or more to the point, my Grandmother!)
I had never thought of this before, but doing the math, it seems that I was born 39 weeks after my mother’s birthday.
This leads me to two possibilities:
1/ Deadbeat dad wasn’t so much of a jerk after all if he’s being nice to mom on her birthday.
2/ I really am a little slow.
Hey – I just realized: I was born exactly 9 months and a few days after my father’s birthday.
I was a pill baby–not an accident, but several months off-schedule. Mom was a teacher, so the plan was for her to get pregnant in the early fall and give birth right about the time school was out so she’d have all summer home with me. Instead she got pregnant in the spring, had me in January, and went back to work when I was three weeks old. Such is life.
Her finding out she was pregnant was pretty funny, though. A few years before, her doctor had told her she had a tipped uterus and would never be able to have children, so she decided to stop wasting her money on birth control pills. A month later she was back in the office trying to figure out what was wrong with her. That was my brother. With me, she felt the exact same way, but the pregnancy tests kept coming back negative. She finally got in to see a gyno to see what was wrong that she had all the symptoms of pregnancy but wasn’t pregnant. He diagnosed me by one quick look at her cervix.
I wish I could remember the comic (I think it might have been Robin Williams) who had a joke about how you don’t want to find out you were conceived if it involved your day saying to your mom: “Bark like a dog, Bitch!”
Mmm, it seems that I was born exactly 9 months after the August bank holiday (UK)… Guess there wasn’t much to do in those days, only 3 TV channels and all the shops shut…
It wasn’t until I read this thread that I realized that both my kids were born about nine months after my birthday, which is also very close to Valentine’s Day. Hmmmm.
I’d really rather not think about this at all. In fact,if I found out I was hatched in a lab,I’d be okay with that. Probably not true though,since I look just like my mom and almost everyone else on her side of the family.
Not only do I not knowt he scenario, I don’t know WHO was there besides my mother!
I was conceived during the filming of Casablanca and born the day that For Whom the Bell Tolls was released.
When I wanted to know if I was planned or an accident, Mother just said that I was conceived in the usual way.
Funny you started this thread on my birthday! I was conceived in New Orleans on or about the 4th of July, and was born prematurely.