On April 3, 1987 the day after my 14th birthday, I was walking away from a fight when this girl who was much older than I was tried to pick a fight with me. I ignored her and kept on walking. Then suddenly she ran up behind me and hit me on the back of my head, with a wooden leg off of a baby bed. It jerked my head forward and broke my neck. At the time I was around three months pregnant, but since that meant that I was only in my first trimester, the doctors were unable to perform the surgery right away.
Then in June of 1987 when I was five months pregnant the doctors were finally able to perform the surgery to repair my broken neck; however, I lost too much blood during the surgery putting me at risk of losing my baby. So I was given a blood transfusion, two pints of blood I was given. The next month when I returned for my six month prenatal check-up and I was asked to get an HIV test. The doctors had found out that one of the pints of blood that I was given was contaminated with the HIV virus. So I agreed to be tested. Two weeks later while I was at church an incredible force came over me to go up to the altar and the pastor prayed for me and my unborn child. Around the same time at home my mother received the call for us to come in and discuss my test results. When my mother told me about the call, I knew that I had tested positive for HIV. I don’t know how I knew, I just did. Why else would the doctor call about test results on a Sunday?
The next morning we went into the maternity clinic to discuss the test results and sure enough I had tested positive for the HIV virus. My mother was devastated. I, on the other hand, accepted it immediately. I was told that I probably wouldn’t live to see my 18th birthday. Then the doctor tried to talk me into getting an abortion; however, I didn’t believe in abortions, so I refused. After all I was already in my sixth month of pregnancy and I had started feeling my baby kicking. I wouldn’t have gotten an abortion under any circumstances so they left me alone in my decision to keep my baby. Still, I was told that my baby could be born with HIV as well. But I was putting my faith in God that he would have mercy and spare my baby from this devastating disease.
By this time my mother had to quit her job to take care of me. We lost our home and by the time I was seven months pregnant we became homeless. Around the same time, my baby’s daddy had gone on a job in Kentucky, on his way back home to Nashville; he was killed in a car accident. So now I was seven months pregnant and homeless and I was going to be a single mother. Then at 6:00 a.m. on November 21st I went into labor, I went through 58 hours of labor but finally at 4:20 p.m. on November 23, 1987 I gave birth to my daughter. She weighed 6 pounds 12 ounces. She had black curly hair and the most beautiful hazel eyes. I named her Deondra Mae Snyder. She seemed to be a healthy baby full of life and charisma. When she was born, only my antibodies were testing positive for HIV. However, when my daughter turned 18 months old she too tested positive for the HIV virus. At that time the doctors put my daughter on an AIDS medication called AZT. Read more… »