Story from Anwaar A.
My second pregnancy wasn’t planned, and it came at a very bad time. Not only was it during the pandemic, but I knew that my son would be undocumented. I still decided to keep it, because the thought of an abortion was too painful. My firstborn was four years old, and I didn’t know how I could love another child the same way.
For nine months I had health issues—from morning sickness, to high blood pressure (that caused me to faint constantly), to crippling back pain. Towards the end, it felt like my pelvis was breaking apart. My doctor thought I might have a condition called Symphysis Pubis, and said I might need to have a C-section.
I was not ready for that, and prayed to God that I would be able to give birth naturally. After visiting another gynecologist for an ultrasound, she said I can give birth but I’d need to do it the next day (a week or two too early), because my blood pressure was too high.
I walked in casually the next day, and for the first time I spent the night away from my firstborn son. After the doctors induced labor, I was alone for the majority of the day. I could see from the windows that it was snowing (the first time that winter), and I felt hopeful.
After I was sufficiently dilated, I pushed and remembered how painful giving birth is. I prayed as I pushed, knowing that the pain would go away once it’s all over. Once he was born and I held him, I was in awe. How did I love this tiny human being as much as his brother, despite one having spent years with me?
Being confident in caring for him helped me stay strong as he lost weight because he couldn’t latch on properly. I couldn’t afford formula, but found a way to buy it. He preferred breast milk but he screamed in hunger all night. With the help and support of a loving husband, and a lot of determination on my part— my newborn was finally latching properly after two months.
Somedays, as I put them both to sleep at night, I recall the days they were born. The pain is long forgotten, but the love only increased.