Forty Nine Years Ago

In this day and age, rooms at a hospital for expectant mothers, are warm, cozy and pleasant. What I remember is drab cement walls and a dungeon like room with green curtains separating each mother who entered St. Joseph's Hospital. While I waited, I could hear every mother brought in and taken out. It seemed as if every other woman could give birth, but not me! Every sound could be heard, every moan, every scream, every word spoken and every prayer. The year was 1963, St. Joseph's was under construction, and this was my first child being born. What I remember is a lot of pain that lasted from around midnight on the twenty-third of February until I was given a whiff of gas to put me out.  I did not follow my doctor's instructions of breathing normally and counting backwards. Instead, I held my breath.  When I could hold my breath no longer, I took one great big gulp and I was out. I awoke on the twenty-second around noon with my husband on one side of the bed and my mother on the other side.  I could hear my mother saying, "This is not normal, she should be awake, she has not even seen her baby." Once I knew I was alive, I continued to sleep.

By the time I awoke, my little baby was starving and letting everyone know with his crying.  The nurses gave me a crash course on how to breast feed and what I needed to do to get my beautiful baby to latch on and begin drinking.  It took a few attempts but my son and I soon got the hang of what we were supposed to do. The feeling of pride, joy, and love, as I held my baby, filled me with happiness. Giving birth is truly a miracle!

A Mother's Ordeal

Lying here, in this darkened room
I shiver.  Is this my doom?
Across my body, a cramping pain,
if I scream, what will I gain?
I grit my teeth and hold my breath,
I know this pain will be my death.
I must be brave, I must be bold,
for there it is again, taking hold.
A invisible hand grabs my insides,
ripping and tearing, then slowly hides.
It is now worse, where does it hurt?
It is now gone, does pain with me flirt?
Each time it comes it gets worse.
What can I do?  "Oh, help me nurse.
Make this unberable pain flee,
please, come and help me!"

On wheels so slow I am rolled away.
A child is to be born to me today.
Into a brightly lighted room I go
as pain within me continues to grow.
My tortured body can take no more,
there isn't a spot that isn't sore.
My breath is gone, I can only gasp,
"Put me out, let me into sleep lapse."
Masked figures whisper calm and low.
My face and hands with perspiration glow.
A gentle voice: "Push with the pain."
I groan, moan, my body aflame.
God, oh God, help me in this hour of need,
help me deliver this painful seed.
As I am put to sleep relief is felt.
Into peacefulness, my body does melt.

I hear a cry, so loud and shirll.
This is the answer to a mother's ordeal.
All pain is forgotten, all in the past,                                          

Only love for this baby is all that will last.                       

E. Moscoso

February 25, 1963

To my son:  Remember that the love parents have for their child is special and never-ending. Today on your birthday I  hope you have a wonderful day as you celebrate your 49th birthday!