Authors' note: This story is fictional/a figment of the author's imagination. Any similarities with real life incidences are just coincidental. Dedicated to those who have been there, done that, and have emerged victorious through the grace of God!

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It was the third week of October. I was nearly coming out of my mother’s womb. Suddenly I heard it again. I felt it again. Uggh, it hurt!! Then some rumbling. Oh my, I felt hurt, what was going on? Then I heard my mom crying. What was happening? I was so hungry, but there was no food coming. I tried to keep still, as I was feeling dizzy inside. Another thud. I felt something snapped. Whooooosh!! Then some light. Then the sounds became clearer. It was always noisy, but more of the muffled noise. This time, there was no more barrier, I could hear clearer.

A loud voice was shouting, “You better get that food on the table, now!”

Then a weak voice, my mom’s, replied, “Yes!” Then suddenly, she groaned as she tried to stand. “Oohhh, my … baby … is … coming … out …help…me…”

Then silence.

I came out, crying, inhaling … feeling cold …

The man who was with her left her. He did not even look back.

For a while I was just crying, feeling cold. My mom was motionless, did not know what to do. After a while she moved, dragging me with her. She pulled herself up but could not stand.

Then I heard her whisper, “Oh, my baby, my poor baby …” then she held me, and I felt warm. I felt sticky, too! But I was just happy to be held in her warmth. She was whispering to me, just like those times inside her that I heard her talking to me.

Then she was whispering to somebody else, “Oh Lord, I thank You for this baby. Please send somebody to help me.”

For a while she held me close to her, and I liked the softness and the warmth of her breath on my face. She hummed to me, the same tune she would hum to me for those many months inside her womb.

Then voices … I heard voices. They sounded familiar, coming nearer. They saw us.

“Oh, thank God we came!” one of them said.

“Yes, we were just talking about you, and she said we should pray for you then come and visit,” another replied.

“Quick, let us clean her and the baby up,” the first one said. They were familiar voices because they were my mom’s friends. They met together regularly and they would talk to me also. I tried to smile at them, to thank them for thinking of us and coming over.

“Oh, thank you, Val and Liz, thank God He sent you both here. I was just praying for Him to send somebody,” my mom weakly replied, but relieved. “My husband just hit me, you see, and did not even help me when the water broke,” her voice broke as she tried to explain.

“Hush now, just relax, we will take care of everything,” assured her friends, God-send friends.

That was 29 years ago.

Now, as I sat on my rocking chair, listening to peaceful gospel music, pregnant with my first child, I could not thank God enough for His mercy and love. I was determined not to let my baby experience the same thing that I did. I thank God for the God-fearing man He gave me to be my husband.

My baby will not have a ‘painful’ birth day like I had.

	1. 01-03-2007 03:39
	whew..nice tita..touching..     i think we always undergo rebirths..and everytime that it happen, we are born as better individuals,i.e. if we look at the positive side always. Guest Report

anne_0125

	2. 02-03-2007 16:04
	Guest Report

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