This is a story I have only told just a few persons, maybe one or two very close friends. The story of my birth. And how I came about my first and middle name.
I’m excited to bring it up on the Write Your Hustle Series!!!
Write Your Hustle is a series to help you creatively articulate in writing your journey of becoming. Even beginning from your birth.
Turning your story into true inspiration!!
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We believe we can turn our pains and fears into success stories.
When you become conscious of your personality, you are able to face the reality of who you are, with a clear understanding of where you are coming from, you can vividly picture and create a better future for yourself, your business and your career.
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To the story of my birth and name.
As you may already know, your name is almost as significant as your purpose. The very reason a lot of persons take a stand to change their names when they become adults.
Your name as your purpose follows you about everywhere you go. You, however, have the responsibility to make it work for you for good.
There are several stories in the Bible of people who had to change their names and sometimes, God by himself had to change some people’s names, so that the new names fit in the purpose of these persons.
Abram to Abraham, Jacob to Israel, Saul to Paul, etc, are a few examples that stand out. This change of names had a big effect in their lives.
Maybe this is one thing you would like to review and write about.
How come about your name?
I was born almost three decades ago, somewhere in the Government Reservation Area of Benin City, Edo State on the 23rd day of February.
According to my mum, it was about past 10 pm that beautiful day. And yes, she was nine months pregnant of me.
She felt press to ease herself and went to the restroom only to see a tiny structure comes out from her instead of urine.
She called my dad who was in the living room. He didn’t hear her. So my mum came out of the restroom with the tiny structure still out of her.
Immediately my dad saw her, he jumped up and shouted; “that’s a child!”
Guess this is sounding like Nollywood already. Well, it is not! This is my story, my hustle from the day of my birth. 😍
In the confusion, he asked my mum to sit, of course in a way that doesn’t endangers her nor the child. That’s if the child was still alive.
He hurried to call our neighbours (extended relative as it was a family house) But they didn’t know how to handle childbirth; they had never done it before.
She couldn’t enter any vehicle in that state so they could not get her to the hospital. They needed a midwife to attend to her right there and then!
Interesting, right? Yeah.
My dad remembered a nurse and midwife who lived down the street with her family. Strategic positioning.
He ran to the house; the gate was locked. It was close to midnight. He knocked as hard as he could. There was no response.
Desperate to save his wife and the unborn child, he climbed through the fence and jumped over to the compound. Bless you my father.
Now he could knock the door closer and someone must answer. It was running towards past 11 pm.
My dad knocked harder at the door, but the man wouldn’t come out nor let his wife come out at that time. It was too late.
But when the wife heard my dad describing who he was and my mum, the midwife recognized him.
According to her, my mum was very respectful and would always greet her every time she passes and sees her on the street. She told her husband she must go.
Back to our house.
My mum is resting on both hands behind her. With one or two of my aunt giving her moral support. It was my paternal granduncle’s house, more like a family house.
The midwife arrived, dispatched all other person but my dad. She finally recognized what the structure was, it was one of my legs.
Yep! I was born a breech baby!
“Wow, madam, relax, when I say push, you push OK?” “OK ma,” my mum replied.
Then the battle began! After a few minutes’ pushes, my other leg came out, leaving half of my body in the womb and the other half in the world.
Interesting story right? Yes.
Now let me tell you a little about breech babies.
They are babies who instead of the headfirst position in the mother’s uterus, as it is the norm, breech babies are in bottom-first or feet-first position during delivery.
They sit placing their legs or bobom towards the cervix, as seen in the pictures below.
Prior to this age, when we have improved medical care, this kind of childbearing is very risky for both mother and child.
Sometimes the baby dies, other times, the mother dies, and in worst cases, the baby and the mother dies.
Statistics says you would only find one out of a hundred baby born this way.
But here is the miracle. I was really curious while my mum narrates the story; “mummy how did you feel throughout this time? I’m sure it was really painful.”
But to the Glory of my Father who at in heaven, my mum said she never felt any pain. It was my dad that was feeling the pain.
My dad would ask her every minute; “how are you feeling?” “I am very fine. The baby should just come out alive!” She would respond.
And yes o, this baby was not ready to die in her first hustle. Hehehe
By God’s special Grace and with the help of the midwife, I finally brought out the rest part of my body.
Chai! You needed to see my form and structure. My head was like the shape of a sucking mango.
Thank God for molding o.. My mum, grandma and aunt did a great job of molding the head back to normal. 😂
But that was half of the story. The battle has not ended. I was out, but the baby did not cry!
The midwife gave me some taps with two fingers, perhaps I could feel pain and cry. But nah, boss lady didn’t cry. I wasn’t ready to fall my hand and be crying like a baby.
However, sadly, in a few seconds after she landed the earth, she was giving up and losing her breath.
Biko, don’t blame her. My very first day on the planet, I was already waging war. It’s no joke abeg. Or you think it’s easy?
Anyway, obviously, God didn’t want her dead. My mum at this time was tired. Again the Lord used the midwife.
She opened my mouth and breathe in, giving me like a life support. Declaring in Jesus’ name that I shall not die but live!
After doing that for a few seconds, I regained consciousness. This time it was beyond her. The thing has passed ‘be careful’ They had to rush my mum and I to the hospital. It was already passed 12am the next day.
The doctor explained I had swallowed some ‘mege mege’ in the womb, the time I was half in and half out; the reason I could not cry.
They afterwards did something that made me vomited the sereri and then, the little baby gave a little cry and moments later, an outburst of cry…! Na so we see am o…
So, how come about my name?
My father called me Osawerenmen, meaning: it is God that did it for me. My mother called me Osaherunwmen, meaning “God answered my prayers.”
My favourite Aunt came and was told the story of my birth and she exclaimed “Osawanamen ma ghia e ona e!” Meaning, it is Osawemen we will call this one o. And everybody shouted; “That’s the name the father has given her!” Hehehehe
My maternal grandma landed and was told the story: she too exclaimed; “Osahenrumwen ma ghia ho na o”, and my mum, surprised, said that is the exact name I too have called her!
Oh yea, I needed an English name too. My dad inquired from the midwife what her name was, and she said Mercy!
Yep! That’s how come about my English name Mercy. My dad named me after the midwife.
So, this is me; Mercy Osawemen Osaherumwen Omoregie.
It’s offering time… Blessing time.
Drop your offering in the comment session.
Write Your Hustle Series.
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