Second Time Mum Narrates Amazing Birth Experience: Meet Gabriel!

From the day I found out I was pregnant with Gabriel, I was already tired.

With my first daughter, Naomi, I didn’t have a job then, so, I got to rest as much as I wanted too. This time, I was already working. The stress of work, coming home to a very lively toddler was exasperating and challenging. I just couldn’t wait for my due date.

Months passed, long months. This time, I must say that “awon aye” were after me and my unborn baby. Earlier in the year, January to be precise, I was 4 months pregnant, when I survived a near death accident. I was involved in multiple falls, series of viral infections and illness all through the pregnancy, but God won the battle for me.

Fast forward to my supposed delivery month. Since I already knew what labour felt like, even though I was dreading it, I did everything possible to bring it on. I was 35 weeks and I was sincerely tired and fed up of being pregnant. I wanted to hold my son, I wanted to be able to help my husband out because he had been an angel. He’d come back from work and cook for me, he was in charge of bathing our daughter from the day I found out I was pregnant, washing all our clothes and house chores. I helped out too, but the little I did still wore me out and I was beginning to feel depressed. I had tried everything, even sex, constant sex. Nothing happened.

My cousin called me out of the blues one day, and asked me to join the “Olowogbogboro Prayer” that was making waves all over Instagram that month. She was convinced that God was going to give me a miracle, so I said I would, but never really got around to it. On the afternoon of June 12^th, I had already begun mu maternity leave, I just felt that I needed to get my house in order, clean wash and tidy up. I was tired o, but I spent a whole day doing house work.

My husband got home and the first thing he said was;

“Do you want to kill yourself?! I told you to leave this thing now!”

I waved it off and told him I was fine, we even did a little canoodling that night, just to prove to him that he married an iron lady.

Pregnancy insomnia had me up all night, and co-incidentally that was the last day of the Olowogbogboro prayer, so I decided to join in. My prayer was short and simple; “Please bring this baby out of me before Friday, give me a short and stress-free delivery, amen”

At 1:00am, I started having contractions, I looked up in bed and said;

“God are you answering me already ni?!”

They were so irregular, so I felt they were false contractions. It went on for almost 1 hour when I felt a strong one that led me to the toilet. I honestly have never pooed and felt so much relief. I was getting ready to finally sleep when a stronger contraction brought me to my knees. I crawled up the stairs and called my husband with a very deep groan, he got up from the bed shaking and said

“I didn’t want to touch you o, I didn’t want to touch o, see what you have done, Let me give you panadol and rub your back”

I snapped back at him;

“Don’t touch me!!, just take me to the hospital”

Luckily, our hospital was 10 minutes away from the house, and at 2:30am, my husband made it in 5 minutes. Immediately the doctor saw me, he prepped me up to check ho dilated I was, I said to him;

“I’m going to push o,” he said “don’t push o” I said “I’m pushing o”. Another doctor and mid-wife had to hold me down. He went to my husband and said;

“Where is her hospital bag? She’s dilating very fast; the baby would soon be here”

My husband dashed back home because we intended to have the baby at my dad’s hospital in Ajah where our daughter was born. Thank God, we didn’t even bother to go there, I don’t think I’d have made it past Gbagada.

20 minutes later, a nurse asked me to move to the theatre, I told her that I wanted a wheel chair because I couldn’t walk. She said it was going to take a longer time because it was quite far. Immediately I heard “longer” I started jogging to the theatre myself with nurse and doctor behind me. The pains were making me see white spots I asked for an epidural, and they called the doctor in charge of that.

The mid-wife in-charge came in, a very strict Igbo woman and told me to stop shouting. With all the pain and anger at my husband for not being back yet, it felt like hours I last saw him, I shouted back at her;

“who do you think you are to tell me to stop shouting, I’m in pain, I can’t feel my back, how heartless can you be?!”

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She just folded her arm and stared at me, as if to say “when you finish let me know”. I was told that I had at least to wait a bit for something something to open up before I could push. This strict mid-wife just looked at them and said something in Igbo, all I could grab was;

“is this not the head I’m looking at, let her push!”

My water hadn’t broken, so she broke the sac, I pushed him out with the next contraction and he slipped out, the nurse brought him out of the sac and placed my 4kg bundle of sweetness on me.

My husband rushed in 20 minutes later;

“where is my wife? How many centimeters left? When do we push?!”

The same nurse looked at him and smiled;

“Oga come and see your son, na fine boy!”

He shouted:

“Ehn! You have pushed?! Alone??!” He kissed me with tears in his eyes and went on to see Gabriel, our very own angel from heaven.