Oh my! If you, dear reader, were one of those who saw that notification on your phone a few hours ago, the one that said in urgent red letters: “Breaking News: Woman gives birth on the highway… Read more ,” and you felt your blood pressure drop from sheer shock and intrigue, get ready! Because if you clicked “Read more” and didn’t get to the bottom of it, here at your trusted newspaper, we don’t beat around the bush. We went right up to the shoulder, we smell burnt rubber, and we have the full story—blood, sweat, and tears—of what really happened on that asphalt hell that yesterday became an improvised delivery room.
This isn’t a Hollywood movie, folks! This is the real Mexico, where life is fought tooth and nail, literally and metaphorically!
THE DRAMA BEGINS: PAYDAY FRIDAY, RAIN, AND DEVILISH TRAFFIC
The story begins like any urban tragedy in our beloved and chaotic capital. Friday afternoon. Payday. The sky was falling apart with a torrential downpour of the kind that turns the Periférico into a branch of Xochimilco.
Our protagonists: Lupita “N”, a 24-year-old warrior with a nine-month pregnant belly that already looked like a prize-winning watermelon, and her brave but nervous husband, Beto, a Didi driver who risks everything every day to earn a living.
They were coming back from their last medical checkup at the IMSS clinic. The doctor, completely nonchalant, had told them, “You still have a while to go, my dear. Go home, have some tea, and relax. It won’t happen until next week.” That damned witch doctor! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about!
As soon as they reached the Mexico-Queretaro highway, near that cursed area known as “La Quebradora,” where accidents are always happening, fate dealt them a cruel blow. A double-trailer truck had crashed into the retaining wall a few kilometers ahead.
Whoops! Traffic came to a screeching halt. A giant parking lot stretching for miles and miles. No going forward, no going back. Every Mexico City resident’s dream, right?
“BETO, HE’S COMING! MY WATER BROKE!”
There they were, stuck between a flatbed truck loaded with pigs and an intercity bus belching out more smoke than an industrial chimney. Beto was sweating profusely, muttering curses under his breath as he stared at the Waze map, which was blood red.
Suddenly, Lupita’s shout broke the awkward silence in the Tsuru: “Beto, no way! Beto, he’s coming! I feel my head!”
Imagine the scene, folks! Beto turned white as a sheet. He glanced at his wife and saw the passenger seat soaked. Her water had broken. There was no going back. The kid (or kid, because it was a surprise) had decided that this precise moment, amidst the traffic chaos and the smell of diesel, was the perfect time to meet the world.
Beto panicked. He tried to get onto the shoulder, honking like crazy, waving his hand, yelling. The stressed-out people didn’t even notice him. “Make way, my wife’s about to give birth!” he shouted, his voice cracking.
Finally, she managed to pull the car over onto a small patch of dirt and gravel. The rain was coming down harder. Lupita was already in fighting position, gripping the dashboard, pushing with a strength that only Mexican strong women summon in critical moments.
THE MOST HEART-STOPPING BIRTH OF THE YEAR: NO DOCTORS, BUT A LOT OF GUTS
Beto isn’t a doctor. Beto barely knows how to change a tire. But love and desperation transformed him. He got out of the car in the downpour, opened the passenger door, and saw what no parenting course teaches you: harsh reality.
“Push, Lupita, push with all your might, my queen!” he yelled, having no idea what to do next. They had no clean towels, no hot water, nothing. All they had was the Tsuru’s flashing light and the will to make everything work.
Lupita was screaming. Her screams mingled with the honking of impatient onlookers who were unaware of the drama unfolding just a few feet away. It was a Dantean, chaotic scene, yet strangely beautiful.
The baby’s head began to emerge. Beto, his hands trembling and covered in grease from the steering wheel, prepared to receive his son. “I see him, love, I see him! One last push, give it your all!”
THE ANGEL OF THE ROAD APPEARS: AN ANONYMOUS HERO WITH A MUSTACHE
And just when it seemed that things were going to get complicated, because the baby was coming in a hurry and the umbilical cord looked half tangled, the miracle happened.
From the flatbed truck next to us, a big man got out. Don Ramiro, an old-school trucker, with a Zapata-style mustache and a respectable beer belly, but with a heart of gold. Don Ramiro had seen the commotion and, like a good Mexican, he couldn’t just stand idly by.
“Get out of the way, kid, you’re going to faint!” Don Ramiro told Beto, gently pushing him. The trucker, who in his 40 years on the road had seen everything (from ghosts to cows giving birth), took out of his sleeper cab a “nearly” clean red flannel and a first aid kit that looked like it was from World War II.
Don Ramiro calmly took control of the situation. He gave instructions to Lupita, calmed Beto, who was already crying, and conducted the orchestra.
IT’S A BOY! AND HE WAS BORN WITH A CAKE UNDER HIS ARM (AND THE SMELL OF DIESEL)
With one last superhuman push from Lupita, which resounded louder than thunder, the baby shot out into Don Ramiro’s calloused hands.
Silence fell for a second… and then, the crying. That wonderful, powerful crying that announces life! WAAAA, WAAAA!
It’s a boy! A healthy, rosy-cheeked little boy who arrived in the world cursing the traffic and the rain. Don Ramiro, with the skill of a surgeon, cleaned the baby’s face with a flannel and, using a pair of flat scissors from his first-aid kit and a piece of hemp thread, cut the umbilical cord.
“Welcome to the world, you bastard!” said Don Ramiro with a huge grin, handing the weepy little bundle to an exhausted Lupita whose face was illuminated by the purest happiness.
Beto hugged his wife and son, crying like Mary Magdalene, not caring that the other drivers had already gotten out to see the gossip and were applauding and honking, celebrating the arrival of the new Mexican.
THE ARRIVAL OF THE “BLUE” AND THE HAPPY ENDING
As always in this country, the police and ambulance arrived after the show was over. Sirens could be heard in the distance 40 minutes after the birth. The Red Cross paramedics, though late to the delivery, did their job: they checked on Lupita and the “trucker’s” baby, confirming that both were, miraculously, in perfect health, just a little cold and wet.
They were put in the ambulance to be taken to the nearest hospital for routine checkups. Oddly enough, traffic started flowing again right after the birth, as if the universe had been waiting for the baby to arrive.
Beto left in the ambulance, but not before giving Don Ramiro a bear hug. “Boss, I have no way to repay you, you’re an angel!” he said. Don Ramiro, humble as ever, just adjusted his cap and said, “That’s what we’re here for, son. Just name the kid Ramiro and we’re even.” And he climbed into his truck to continue on his way.
REFLECTION: RACE IS RACE
This story, my dear readers, is living proof that in Mexico, even in the worst circumstances, the solidarity and courage of the people pull us through.
A baby was born on the shoulder of one of the country’s most dangerous highways, in the rain and without any fancy doctors. He was born thanks to his mother’s courage, his father’s clumsy but sincere love, and the selfless help of a stranger who became family in five minutes.
It is said that the child, whom they are indeed planning to name Ramiro Guadalupe (after the truck driver and the Virgin Mary who took care of them), has already been offered free diapers for life by a famous brand and that the National Guard wants to make him an honorary member.
Congratulations to the new parents! And remember, folks, the next time you’re stuck in traffic and want to curse, think that maybe, in the car next to you, life is unfolding in the most spectacular way.
What a story, damn it! This is real Mexico!
