I always liked telling the story of how I was born, simply to show off.
That is no longer what drives me in telling people how I came into this world. Moreover, I used to only talk about the birth process itself before, because that’s what I was proud of. Now, with the new perspective on how I came to be, I like to start from the beginning, because I like to show God’s hand in my life.
I was conceived two months after my brother was born. We are eleven months apart. Additionally, my mother was on birth control at the time, something that during my teen years I was very affected by. I wasn’t planned, which is why I never spoke about this aspect when I used to tell my story – no reason to let people know I was a surprise.
Now, however, I boast in that. Something that caused me to bottle up when I found out, is now a source I use towards my purpose. There are many people in the world that were unplanned, that came as a surprise to their parents. Some, are received with love [like I was], others are not as fortunate. Some allow the knowledge of being unplanned to negatively affect their lives as I did [though unaware], others do not allow it to define them.
I have learned to embrace it, because I have learned that I was not placed in this timeline by mistake. I could’ve been born earlier, I could’ve been born later, I could’ve not been born at all, but I was.
My mother’s pregnancy with me was the same as my older brothers, meaning that she was on an IV for the first trimester, because she couldn’t keep anything down. Our births is where we all differ. With my elder brother, my mom went to the hospital the moment she started getting contractions [typical for first time mom’s, though she describes them as subtle menstrual pains] and ended up having to walk around for hours before my brother was born because she wasn’t dilated. Because of this experience, she waited a little longer at home with my second brother and when she arrived at the hospital she was rushed to the delivery room. My brother had drank labor water and was born – for lack of a better explanation, dead. The doctors were able to pump out the labor water and revive him, but because of this scare when it was my turn to be born, my mother wasn’t taking any chances.
The night of October 6th, 1993, my mother was feeling uneasy, she wasn’t having contractions, she was just uncomfortable. My dad wasn’t home, but it is when he arrived just after midnight on October 7th, 1993 that everything begins. He walks into the room that he and my mom share with my brothers at my grandmother’s house and my mom asks him if he put the car in the garage, the answer is yes, followed by “are you going to give birth?” to which my mom said no, but as I mentioned before, due to the experience with my second brother, my mom didn’t want to take any chances.
As my dad went to get the car back out of the garage, my mom sat on the bed to put on a pair of pants under her nightgown, as she lifts up her leg, her water breaks. Immediately she calls out for my dad who freezes in the garage, who says “this woman is going to give birth”. How right he was.
Most of my life I was under the impression that I almost died at birth, that I had rushed out of my mother’s womb and got caught just in time. Recently I found that this was not the case, it still however does not take away the miracle and story of my birth.
After my mother called my dad, my great-grandmother walked into my parent’s room and after telling my mom to lie down, found my head outside of my mother. She then proceeded bring me into the world with the help of a neighbor.
The night of October 6th, 1993, my mother was feeling uneasy, she wasn’t having contractions, she was just uncomfortable. My dad wasn’t home, he was out with one of aunt’s dancing groups, but it is when he arrived just after midnight on October 7th, 1993 that everything begins.
My mom was on the verge of calling a taxi when my dad walks into the room that they shared with my brothers at my grandmother’s house and my mom asks him if he put the car in the garage, the answer was yes, followed by “are you going to give birth?” to which my mom said no, but as I mentioned before, due to the experience with my second brother, my mom didn’t want to take any chances.
As my dad went to get the car back out of the garage, my mom sat on the bed to put on a pair of pants under her nightgown, as she lifts up her leg, her water breaks. Immediately she calls out for my dad who freezes in the garage, my grandmother in the living room says “this woman is going to give birth”.
How right she was.
My mother never had the chance to put down her raised leg as her shout to my father was the only push she needed to give. I came out into the world, flying in the air with one destination: to hit the floor. Which would’ve meant immediate death.
I’m here writing my story because my great grandmother came into the bedroom just in time and caught me.
Meanwhile, my dad was in the garage jumping from one side of the car to the other, unsure of whether he should start the car or go inside.
I was first seen by an orthopedist who lived across the street, while one of my cousins went back and forth from his parent’s house to my grandmother’s house because he kept forgetting the phone number to my mom’s sister’s house. Once my mother and I were deemed healthy, we proceeded to be taken to the hospital.
When I first found the story of my birth I thought it was the best story ever, as I got older, a voice in my head began to question it until I began to second-guess my existence, considering myself a mistake because I thought I should’ve died at birth. The idea that I shouldn’t be in this world played in my mind in my late teens and early twenties, creating the thought that I was unwanted which caused me to turn inward into myself.
Finding my identity in Jesus Christ and seeing my birth from His perspective gave me a purpose. I want to help others in the world who feel unloved, like they aren’t enough, and I want to remind them that they are here for a reason. That they didn’t come into this world by accident, but to accomplish a mission.
I want to accomplish mine. Will you join me in my mission to see how far I’ll go?
To begin, we must journey back and see how far I’ve come.
Scriptures to Read: