Like schools and businesses adapting to pandemic safety requirements, prisons replaced in-person visits with video chats. For people in prison, halting in-person visits meant shutting off one of their only connections to the outside world. “Is he gonna die and my daughter is never gonna meet him? Is our daughter only gonna know him from a picture and from what I tell her?”Īll over the world, the pandemic kept people from seeing friends and relatives in distant places or at high risk of illness. As Christina went into labor on that July morning, COVID-19 infection rates were surging in correctional facilities, and she had no idea when she would see Emmanuel again. She understood the families’ distress at not being able to see their loved ones, because her own husband, Emmanuel Mendoza, is currently serving life without parole in Mule Creek State Prison. Seeking a bit of peace on what should have been a day of celebration, Christina shut down her social media accounts.
Meanwhile, state prison officials came down on her for untimely responses. Some berated her for not doing more to help them or posted their complaints on Facebook. As the former chair of the California Statewide Inmate Family Council, Christina had been in charge of helping people stay in touch with loved ones behind bars and up to date on California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR) visitation policies - and now with the pandemic preventing prison visits, those families and friends were turning to Mendoza to air their concerns. Her phone had been pinging nonstop all day - although not entirely with messages of love and support from her family and friends. Her preeclampsia blood pressure was so high that doctors had ordered her not to even try to walk.īut Christina had more than just the birth of her third child on her mind as she was taken into delivery. On the morning of July 13, 2020, Christina Mendoza was wheeled into the delivery room for an emergency C-section.
0 kommentar(er)
