Lesson From Ivory Coast: How to Give Birth During a War

Two weeks ago, Julie Esse, about nine months pregnant, looked as if she could become another tragic footnote in Ivory Coast's bloody conflict.

Instead, her story -- with its twist ending -- turned out to be something O. Henry might have written, with a title about two bags of Type O negative blood and details about scary guys brandishing Kalashnikovs and machetes.

Esse, 35, a hat and accessories designer, began having what she thought were contractions on April 6, the morning after a mortar blast tore a hole in her family's Abidjan apartment during the siege to capture Laurent Gbagbo, who refused to give up his presidency after Alassane Ouattara was elected.

Esse, who has sickle cell anemia, was caught in a nightmare of airstrikes and sniper fire that turned Abidjan, one of Africa's most modern and prosperous cities, into a war zone almost overnight.

"One day we were living a peaceful, happy life and the next day people were being shot and killed outside our door," Esse told AOL News at the time.

Because of her medical condition and her age, Esse's doctors had told her that she'd need a blood transfusion and a cesarean section before her baby's mid-April due date if she and her baby wanted to survive.

But she had no way of getting to any of the city's hospitals, most of which had been evacuated anyway. Most blood banks were also shut down, and the one that was open had no more Type O negative blood -- one of the rarest blood types.

Forces loyal to former President Gbagbo were warring with incoming President Ouattara's troops. French and U.N. attack helicopters were blasting the presidential palace where Gbagbo was holed up in bunker.

Gbagbo had refused to cede power after the presidential elections in November, even though the U.N. said Ouattara won. Gbagbo insisted the voting was fraudulent, and the dispute tipped the country into a near civil war.

Millions in Abidjan, including Julie, her husband, Didier, 36, a church administrator, and their two young children hid in their own homes as well.

Even ambulances weren't running because snipers were firing at vehicles and people. Water and electricity were cut at the Esse home. Food was scant.

But by April 8, the couple had found a private clinic that was open. Esse's father drove from the other side of the city to take his daughter and son-in-law to the clinic, even though Esse worried he would be shot on the way over.

There was a hitch, however. The obstetrician refused to schedule Julie for a cesarean section without the extra blood needed for transfusions. But he knew where to tell them to get some.

Esse stayed at the clinic while her father and husband set off on a perilous journey by car to a blood bank.

"It's normally a five-minute drive," Didier Esse told AOL News in a phone interview today. "It took us two hours. There was shooting everywhere."

During the trip, gangs of men brandishing Kalashnikov rifles and machetes forced them to stop, get out of the car and answer questions about 15 different times.

"We didn't even know who they were or what side they were on," Didier said. "They thought we had weapons in the car. I kept saying my wife is pregnant and she needs blood. They'd search the car and then let us get back in and continue on our way. Two minutes later, we'd be stopped again. They weren't violent, but I didn't like having a machete in my face."

At the blood bank, Didier Esse was able to get one bag of O-negative.

It wasn't enough. Back at the clinic, the obstetrician told the Esses he needed two bags of blood -- one for a transfusion before the cesarean and one in case of complications afterward.

"I couldn't believe it," Julie Esse said. "I begged him, what if I die right here on the spot. He was adamant. He had lost one patient on the table during a similar C-section. He wasn't going to take the risk. He told me to find more blood."

Esse said she left "totally demoralized" and hoping that what she thought had been early contractions would not start up again.

"I kept praying that my baby would wait until we found more blood," she said. "We kept calling around but couldn't find any."

Gbagbo was finally captured April 11, and life in Abidjan slowly started going back to normal. On April 14, Didier Esse located some O-negative blood, and Julie said her contractions began immediately after she heard the news.

The couple set off for the hospital that same night, armed with the two bags of blood.

Esse had the same obstetrician, but he apparently had had a change of heart about the procedure.

"He said, with all this stress over, let's just do one transfusion first and try to see if the baby can come naturally," Esse said.

His plan worked, and Kayla Esse was born early on April 15, without needing a cesarean section -- or a second bag of blood.

"Nothing matters now because we are so happy she's here," Julie Esse told AOL News today.