When she was 41 with 4 children, my grandmother unexpectedly got pregnant again. Due to complications, the doctor told her that it was unlikely that her pregnancy could be successful. “If you have this baby, I will eat my hat,” he said. “Dr.,” said Rosie, in her trademark stubborn fashion, “you better start chewing.” She put herself into bed and a few months later she gave birth to a beautiful, redheaded baby girl. That daughter grew up to have nine children, the third of which is me.
