As soon as she lay prone on her back, Teresa’s face contorted in pain and a piercing scream reverberated off the walls. “´¡Ya viene…ya viene…mi bebé!” she gasped and clutched her stomach. Her words sent a chill down Vicente’s spine and he saw wetness seeping through her clothes into the fabric of the couch. ¿Por qué Mami hizo pipí en el sofá? Vicente thought briefly, although he was quite panicked but would do his best not to show fear.
By now his siblings, Emilio, Lilyana, and Yovani were standing next to Vicente frightened and confused. Vicente stood frozen, not knowing what to do as Teresa bit her lip and moaned. Lilyana and Yovani started crying while Emilio stood helpless, his eyes shooting back and forth between Mami and Vicente.
When the pain waned, Teresa schooled her face as best as possible and told Emilio to take his sister and Yovani next door to Guadalupe’s and stay there. Emilio guided his sister and younger brother out the door. Mami ordered Vicente to grab a towel because the baby was coming. When he returned with a towel, his mother was once again moaning and screaming, but she had the wherewithal to tell her son he needed to help guide the baby out. Vicente was terrified almost sickened when he saw a tiny foot mixed with the blood and other fluids coming from his mother’s body. He thought she was dying.
“¿Ves la cabeza?” Again, Mami’s voice was strained, overcome with pain.
Vicente shook his head in shock and told her it was not the head but a foot. Teresa panicked and ordered him to reach inside and grab the other foot. Her voice was frantic as she started praying.
Vicente felt like he’d turned into a statue and couldn’t move. “¡Hazlo!” Teresa commanded him to do it, which seemed to get the scared little boy out of his stupor, and he exhaled a shaky breath and leaned in. However, he heard the door burst open as their portly, gray-haired neighbor, Guadalupe, quickly bustled her way to the couch. She spoke rapidly to Teresa, pushing Vicente out of the way with her pudgy hand. Vicente bowed up his chest in defense when, in reality, he was relieved that someone else was here to help.
“Dame la mano, mi amor.” Teresa reached out to her son, and he held out his hand allowing her to fold his fingers in hers, her voice was suddenly calmer. Vicente didn’t know what to make of his mother’s mood swings—one minute she was screaming in angst and the next she was serene, pleasant even. He glanced at the older woman, whose face was wrinkled, decorated with life’s hardships, concentrating as she gave orders for his mother to push. Guadalupe had no qualms about reaching in and pulling out the other foot.
Vicente gripped his mother’s hand tightly while he allowed her fingernails to dig into his skin. She then coaxed him between gasps to look at her and keep his eyes on hers probably sensing this was all too much for a six-year-old to witness because her sister Esmeralda had always been with her in the past to help deliver her babies. But, her sense of urgency overruled her conscience.
“Una vez más,” Guadalupe persuaded her to push one more time in her gravelly I’ve-been-through-a-lot-voice as she leaned over Teresa. Out of the corner of his eye, Vicente saw legs and knees covered in some slimy substance. He thought he might be sick but swallowed hard and focused his attention on Mami. However, his curiosity got the best of him and he kept darting his eyes back and forth between his mother and the baby.
“Está bien, está bien, todo está bien,” Teresa cooed to her son telling him everything was fine, although it was clear she was in pain. Even through her suffering, she tried to calm Vicente.
Vicente could see his mother’s hair was now wet and matted around her face; her voice was weak when she’d spoken to him. In his child’s brain, he knew this whole ordeal was taking a toll on her as she furrowed her brow and growled out pushing as hard as she could.
Guadalupe was cheering on Teresa as she pushed and screamed. The noises pierced the air until only heavy breaths could be heard for several moments. The baby was out. Teresa felt her stomach as if assuring herself that the baby was indeed out, but there were no cries, just the panicked gasp from Guadalupe who unwound the umbilical cord from the baby’s neck.
“¿Qué pasa? ¿Qué pasa?” Teresa struggled to sit up fighting through her exhaustion demanding to know what was happening. Guadalupe was swatting the very still baby on its back. The older woman even put her mouth to the infant’s like she was trying to bring it to life. Teresa struggled to grasp her baby, but some sixth sense told Vicente to try to restrain her. Something was wrong, he knew but wasn’t exactly certain what it was.
By now, Mami was sobbing, rezando like never before, praying to God for forgiveness de sus pecados. Vicente tried to comfort her, telling her she was perfect and Díos knew it. In his mind, his mother had never committed a sin.
Guadalupe raised her solemn, weary eyes to Teresa still clutching the lifeless babe in her arms and shook her head. Mami fought out of Vicente’s grasp to clutch her baby to her chest. Unbeknownst to Vicente, the baby was dead. But, he soon found out when his mother bent over the infant with a look of pain and wailed. She rambled on and on again about God punishing her because she was dirty. She called herself a puta, prostituta, and said she deserved this for selling her body for sex. And, it was on this day Vicente learned angels didn’t deliver babies from heaven.
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