Birth Story of Troy Nolan Davis

Troy Nolan Davis
January 30, 1982
6 lbs
18 "

I was 18 when I became pregnant in December of 1980 but suffered a miscarriage in February of 1981. Four months later, I was pregnant again. I was happy but scared …my relationship with Dallas, the father, had been rocky from the start; we had no home to speak of and owned nothing more than the clothes on our backs. They say you can’t live on love, but that’s exactly what we were doing, for we had nothing else.

 We found our way to Sacramento, California and I was hoping this would be the opportunity to settle down before the baby’s due date of March 17^th ( a Saint Patrick’s Day baby!). We were staying in a group home/shelter kind of place, made some friends, and then moved into a tiny little motel/kitchenette. We existed on bologna and mustard sandwiches but I continued to hope things would get better. Dallas wasn’t able to work as he was suffering from a flare-up of a back injury. In late January, that injury put him in the hospital for treatment. I was 7 ½ months pregnant, and had been suffering from chest pains. We had no money, and I hadn’t seen a doctor for the entire pregnancy. I was visiting Dallas one afternoon, hunching forward to try and get rid of the chest pain. He insisted I go downstairs to Emergency to see the doctor, and I finally agreed. The doctor examined me, said I was dilated 1 cm, but he doubted anything was going to happen for awhile. I didn’t know any better, so went home to try and rest a bit, promising Dallas that I would phone him if anything happened.

 I was babysitting for friends that night while they went to a drive-in movie. Their 2 year old daughter Kathy was well behaved, but I wasn’t feeling right. I went to the bathroom and realized I had a bloody show. I was 6 weeks early, and didn’t have a clue what to expect. I hadn’t had any prenatal classes, I had never even held a baby before. I called Dallas to tell him what was happening, he talked to a nurse in his ward who said I should come in. I called Kathy’s grandma, told her what was happening, and she said to drop the little girl off at her house. I told her I would arrange a ride, then call her back for the address. When I called back, the phone just rang and rang and rang…with no answer. I tried calling the drive-in, but couldn’t get anyone to try and find my friends…no one was willing to track them down. So, I did what any desperate, labouring mom-to-be would do…I took Kathy to the hospital with me.

When I got there, my friend screeched up to Emergency, dropped me off, and then left…didn’t even help me inside. So there I am, hugely pregnant (I’m 5’1, 110 normally and had already gained 50 lbs), carrying a sleepy toddler, and having contractions. I waddle into ER, and as loud as I can, say "I need help here". So a nurse comes running up, snatches Kathy away from me and races to the examining room, asking me what’s wrong with her, while I’m trying to breathe through a contraction. It took several attempts on my part to explain the story…but finally they got the right patient (me!) and tucked Kathy into a crib in pediatrics while they tried to track down her parents.

Well, I wish I could say the rest of labour was as funny as all that…but it wasn’t. The doctors attached an internal fetal monitor, forcing me to stay on my back for labour. Once they realized that it would be better to let labour progress, rather than try to stop it, they broke my water and started a Pitocin IV. I was malnourished and not in the best of shape anyways, and they just wanted to get that baby born. I was still having severe chest pains (which the doctors told me were in actuality labour pains, so it had been going on for over 24 hours at that point), so I was given demerol and oxygen and IV fluids. After that, all I really remember was Dallas (in a wheelchair) beside me, wiping my lips with a lemon stick and trying to help me breathe. Then I was pushing, exhausted but still trying so hard. And finally…on that January 30, 1982, after 36 of the most agonizing hours of my life, there was the tiny little cry of my big preemie son. Troy Nolan Davis weighed in at an even 6 lbs, and was a whopping 18 " long, at 6 weeks early. Of course, his dad is 6’7" and was a 13 lb’er so I’m glad I had Troy when I did! He was perfect in every way, and only spent one night in the special care nursery. Today, he’s 2 months shy of 17, stands almost 6’3" and is still my baby.

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