My birthing experience was a sad end to a beautiful beginning. On February 6, 1994, Aurthour, (my boyfriend at the time now my husband) and I were at friend’s house having a beautiful dinner. We had spaghetti, cabbage, corn beef, corn bread, and a tall glass of strawberry Kool-Aid. After dinner we found out as we were on our way home that his car was parked on private property and was towed. As soon as he left to go get his car I received several calls from his brother who was very adamant about talking to only him. Of course, I tried to find out what was going on that couldn’t wait. Well, after the forth phone call he realized that telling me was his only option. He was very calm when he let me know that the reason he could not talk to me was because the urgency involved my family. He was told not to talk to me because no one wanted me to go into labor, not to mention I was already ten months pregnant. Well, as you can imagine that didn’t go very well. I found out from my now brother-in-law that my grandmother, the only mother and best friend I knew, and both my uncles were killed in a horrible house fire in Mound Bayou Mississippi. When Aurthour finally returned I couldn’t hardly breathe. I tried to calm down on our trip home because I definitely wasn’t ready to have the baby now. I didn’t want anyone to inform me of the old saying about how God takes three and give one. That I couldn’t handle. That was my sad ending. Once we got home and I called my other siblings and told them about the horrible news, I tried to lie down. Not happening. My baby was ready to come rather I wanted her to or not. After walking for several hours after checking in we finally delivered a beautiful 8lbs. baby girl. This was my beautiful beginning.
I chose to write about this experience to show that things happen both good and bad. We have to choose how we pick ourselves up, dust off and keep it moving. If I allowed this tragic to keep me down who would have been there to take care of my daughter better than me. I don’t feel anyone could have truly loved her better than me. That is why I had to be here for her. I could not allow post-partum to take over because that would have had a huge impact on her development.
I chose to find out about delivering a baby in Spain.
The birthing experience in Spain is very different than the United States. Not many hospitals offer prenatal care and there is very little support after you deliver your baby. Caesarian sections occur at a high rate in Spain. If you have a child in Spain you have to register your baby. Here in the United States all registering is done before the baby leaves the hospital.
My hospital stay was great. The doctors and nurses made me feel very comfortable. We don’t have to worry about the lack of prenatal care or a birth certificate for our baby. I gained a greater appreciation to what we have here in the United States. We are blessed to have our hospitals well equipped with everything we need.
