I titled this post “Birth Of A Child” instead of “Birth Of My Child” because I never felt like it was my child to begin with. Jumping from the car didn’t cause me to go into labor, I went the full 9 months which seemed like an eternity.
It was late April 1978, early one Saturday morning shortly after daybreak when I went into labor. I managed to get out of bed and walk to the living room where Jesse and his friends were passed out from partying all night before.
The pain was excruciating and I knew it was time for the baby. I shook Jesse to wake him and let him know I needed to go to the hospital. He was in a stupor but a couple of his buddies realized what was going on. I could hardly stand and I begged Jesse to get up. One of his friends helped me to sit down while another got the keys to the van and managed to get Jesse out the door.
They laid me on the floor in the back of the van, Jesse drove with one guy in the passenger seat and another in the back with me. When we arrived at the emergency entrance to the hospital, Jesse pulled around the circular drive and stopped. The guy in the passenger side of the van got out and opened the side door for me to get out. No one offered to help me get inside, no one went to grab a wheelchair. They just let me out and drove off. The nurses inside didn’t see me till I reached the inside lobby of the emergency room. Then one of them came running with a wheelchair.
They took me straight back to the delivery room and put me in bed. There I was all alone, going through something I had no idea what to expect. As mentioned, it was early morning. Later that day, much later after dark, I recall the nurses and doctor trying to explain to me that they were going to do a “C-Section”. I had no idea what they were talking about and frankly didn’t care the pain was so intense.
The next day, I woke up in a regular room. It was the first time I remember waking up enough to realize what was happening. One one side of the bed sat Jesse, and his parents Janice and Leon. Janice spoke up and told me I had a boy. They had already named it, I didn’t have any say in the matter. I really didn’t care. What had seemed like an absolute nightmare was finally over. I couldn’t move much because I was cut from the surgery. I just wanted to go back to sleep.
The next time I woke up my mother was sitting there. The rest had gone. I don’t remember us talking much, other than she did say I had the cutest little baby boy and I was going to have my hands full. That’s about it. She didn’t stay but a very short time.
I was in the hospital a week. The next morning the nurse brought the baby in and questioned me about circumcision. Was that something I was going to do? I didn’t know what she was talking about. Never heard of it before. She said that most people choose to do that, so I said “yeah, go ahead”. Still didn’t know what she was talking about.
There were not a lot of visits while I stayed in the hospital. Nothing like any sort of celebration like you have nowadays. You don’t miss what you never knew happens. Didn’t care. The nurses kept bringing this baby in there for me to hold. This baby that somebody else named.
I don’t mean to sound cruel and if my life situation had been altogether different I can begin to imagine what a parent must feel when they love their child more than their own self. But when you are raised absent from what parental love feels like, how can you give something you have never experienced. I had that for a short time with my father, but he died so young.
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