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by Lesley Misko
Forty-four years ago, a Cuisinart food processor, a bottle of urine, and a trip to Bloomingdale’s somehow became part of the story of my son’s birth.
Well, not exactly. But they are all connected.
Forty-four years ago the other day, my husband and I went to visit The Court, the new upscale addition to the King of Prussia shopping mall.
As a New York City girl who had grown up within a stone’s throw of some of the world’s most famous department stores, I was thrilled that a Macy’s—and even more importantly, a Bloomingdale’s—would be within easy driving distance of our home in Bally.
I was also carrying around an overdue baby and was grateful for the distraction.
Concerned about my kidney function because of the baby’s reluctance to be born, my doctor had sent me home with a large plastic bottle in which I was to collect all my urine for a week. It was a daunting task in a house with one bathroom on the second floor.
Oh, and the bottle had to be refrigerated.
On the first floor.
So checking out the new Bloomingdale’s, or “Bloomies,” as we New Yorkers affectionately called it, was a welcome diversion. I could leave the plastic bottle at home in the fridge and not think about it for a while.
Our visit to Bloomingdale’s was just that—a visit. It was never intended to be a shopping trip. I’m not sure why we were so excited about the store’s arrival. We couldn’t afford anything in it anyway, and this was especially true as we faced living on just my husband’s meager teaching salary while I would be on unpaid maternity leave.
But the DLC-7PRO was our undoing.
When we saw the stack of Cuisinart food processors prominently displayed at a great -- but still expensive-- sale price, we looked into each other’s eyes … and promptly caved.
A Cuisinart was hardly a necessity under the circumstances. But local potter, now-retired BASH pottery teacher, and friend, Linda Rohrbach Austerberry, had purchased one several months earlier and was often singing its praises. We were hoping that owning one would enable us to make delicious homemade pizza like hers.
And so we happily returned home with our new DLC-7PRO.
The next day was not so happy.
Returning to the doctor, I worried that my urine collection might be on the low side because I had used the restroom at the store several times while my plastic bottle was home snoozing in the fridge.
So when I handed the bottle over to the nurse, I confessed my bad behavior.
The nurse rolled her eyes and tossed a new empty bottle toward me.
“Then you will just have to do it again this week.”
I walked back to the car feeling something between anger and tears. When I blurted out the news to my husband, I said, “That’s it! This baby is being born! I’m not doing this again!”
The following evening, we were with Linda, eager to inhale her delicious pizza and tell her that we now had a DLC-7PRO of our own. We were joined by Boyertown retired art teacher Doreen Yergey Cechuk.
For some reason, I felt kind of yucky and was unable to eat.
“This baby is going to be born tonight,” Doreen predicted.
At 2 a.m., it was clear she was right.
And so it is that every year at this time, I celebrate three things connected by that memorable week 44 years ago: Bloomingdale’s, the DLC-7PRO Cuisinart and my son.
Of course, one of those three has brought me considerably more joy than the other two.
Um, not necessarily in that order!
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