My Life Begins in Thread: The Birth Announcement Block

A Hand-Made Quilt Serves as a Primary Source for Genealogists

This post is one in a series about a “memory quilt” my mother made in 1990: twenty‑four embroidered squares that together form a visual record of my life, from birth through college graduation. If you’d like the full backstory on the quilt and this series, you can start here.

The very first square represents my birth by including details in the way that a traditional birth announcement would. It was embroidered by a dear friend of the family - Georgann (Munter) Johnson - at the request of my mom.

What This Square Captures

The first square is an embroidered “birth announcement” with my full name, birth date, weight, and the names of my parents. I don’t remember my birth, of course, but for years this square was where I checked my own vital stats. If I needed to know how much I weighed at birth, I went to the quilt.

My mom told me that she didn’t feel confident in stitching tiny letters, so she asked her dearest friend, Jan (Munter) Johnson, to embroider this block. It’s one of three squares created by other important women in both her life and mine.

Only now have I fully appreciated the long-stemmed red roses trimming the “announcement.” They echo the story behind my name. My name –Kirsi– is something my mom heard as a 14-year-old in the movie The Days of Wine and Roses with Jack Lemmon and Lee Remick. Years later, when she was married and pregnant, she called the library to have them look up the spelling of the character’s name in the movie, and they informed her that the character’s name was actually Kirsten. So, officially, I am named Kirsten, but from day one, I’ve always been called Kirsi.

How This Square Has Aged

This square may be the best preserved of all of them, perhaps because of the darker thread, the type of stitch my mom’s friend used, or simply its position on the quilt, where it saw less wear.

Why This Square Matters to Genealogists

For a researcher, this block functions almost like a document, preserving not only the details of my birth—including the names of my parents—but also a nickname my mother used at the time of my birth: Kathe. Earlier, she was Kathy, and later she was Katie or Kate. These shifting names are the kinds of clues that help a researcher follow the same person across records with confidence.

How have you recognized and confirmed the nicknames of your ancestors?