Jaime and I met at school when we were 12, got together two years later and have now been married 17 years. We run a tattoo studio in Curitiba, Brazil, are fans of rock and metal, and have done work for lots of musicians.
After becoming parents to our daughter, Letícia, it had been harder for us to get to concerts. But when Metallica announced they were coming to Brazil in 2020, we didn’t hesitate to get tickets. It would be a dream come true to see Metallica live – Jaime’s late dad used to listen to them all the time.
Due to the pandemic, the concert was postponed until May 2022. We found out I was expecting again and I realised: “Oh my God: I’ll be 39 weeks pregnant at Metallica.” I thought I’d have to give my ticket away, but then I heard there would be a special area at the stadium for pregnant women.
A few days before the show, we asked the doctor for his advice. He said: “You’re feeling fine, you’ll be sitting – it should be fine.” He advised me to get some rest and not to go too hard at the concert – no moshing.
When we arrived at the stadium, I felt fine. I thought: “I’m feeling good, Metallica will be here soon – I’m living the dream.” I actually started to cry, because I felt so happy to be there; after the pandemic, it felt special. But as soon as the band came on stage, I started to feel contractions.
Sign up to our Inside Saturday newsletter for an exclusive behind-the-scenes look at the making of the magazine’s biggest features, as well as a curated list of our weekly highlights.
I had spent 36 hours in labour when I had Letícia, so I thought: “It’s OK, I can handle this. I can see at least the first half of the show.” I was trying to hold on a little bit, thinking: “I need to see Metallica.”
They played my favourite song, Whiskey in The Jar. But then, in the second half, the contractions got a lot stronger. Jaime kept looking over at me, concerned; he could see I was suffering. We called the security guys over. Jaime told them I was in labour and they couldn’t believe it. They said: “Oh my God. A baby is coming?”
Then everything went crazy: they started running around, trying to prepare. They took us to the medical clinic at the side of stage. It only took four minutes or so, but it felt like for ever. Metallica were still playing.
As soon as we reached the clinic – where there was an emergency doctor and a medical kit – my waters broke. The security guys had initially called an ambulance, but the baby came in about 10 or 15 minutes. He was born just as Metallica were playing the last song of their encore, Enter Sandman.
But the baby didn’t cry, and he was a purple colour. Everyone was silent. Jaime started to pray. The doctor cut his umbilical cord and finally he started bawling, just as Metallica finished their set. Fireworks started to boom from the stage and the crowd was cheering. Everyone started to cry. It was a magical moment.
We had to be escorted to the ambulance as tens of thousands of people were leaving the stadium. When they saw us, they realised a baby had been born at the show. Everyone started clapping and congratulating us on “the Metallica baby”.
I thought it was going to be a funny story to tell my friends and customers, but it became international news. It started with the local newspaper, then we were on TV in Brazil. Reporters came to the hospital.
We found out Metallica’s team had been trying to reach us on Instagram. They asked if we would accept a call from the band. “Of course,” we said.
Jaime put his phone on speaker and we heard: “Hi, it’s James [Hetfield] from Metallica.” I couldn’t believe it. I said: “Seriously? It must be a joke. It can’t be real.” James was so kind. He asked if I was OK, if the baby was healthy. We told him the whole story. He has three children and he said the second comes faster than the first, and the third, the fastest, because they know the way out. We laughed.
We had already chosen the name Luan for the baby. But people started to ask: “Why not something related to Metallica?” We felt such a connection with James on the phone that we decided to make Luan’s second name James – it just felt right. Now he won’t be able to listen to any music but metal. He is a baby headbanger – his grandfather would have been proud.
As told to Elle Hunt
Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@theguardian.com
