Saturday 1 March 2014

Grief in Little Bundles

I've been waiting to write - trying to sort out how to tell you about this day in the ward. 

Here's why. I don't want you to be distracted by the details and miss God in them. So in your reading, please, grieve with me but then marvel with me at the Savior. 

I knew this day would come and I think I had been subconsciously prepping myself for it since the first time I walked into the ward. But you can prepare forever and never be ready for the death of a baby. Besides being heart-wrenching, it feels so very wrong.

If one isn't hard enough, there were two this day. One girl and one boy.

The first died right before I got there. She was a full term, healthy girl who's labor stalled and when even the vacuum extractor failed to get her out, she suffocated in the birth canal. 

As soon as I had put my things away and taken a head count, I peeked in to check on this mama, not yet knowing what had happened. She promptly, but with remarkable calmness, told me that her baby had died and motioned to the bassinet next to her bed. I asked if I could look and she seemed eager for me to see her child. The infant was absolutely beautiful with a full head of dark hair and a sweet little pout. 

She looked just like a baby doll when the midwifery student bathed and dressed her to send her home with the family. I watched with tears rolling down my cheeks. I felt their grief and I wish I could have visited more with them but I was pulled away to help another mama.

When I approached the bed of mama no. 2, I noticed right away how small her belly was. She was only 25 weeks and her labor was in full-swing. Her bag of waters had already ruptured and there was no stopping now.

No one needed to tell her that it was all too early. Her face spoke volumes about what was going through her head. Her family, thinking that it would be healthy, encouraged her to do lots of vigorous exercise but instead of helping, we think it put her into early labor.

Her baby weighed 525 grams. That's 1.1 pound. That's ridiculously small. He came out with his hand covering the top of his head. It was the first thing I saw when he made his entrance. His perfect little hand. 

Initially we thought he was dead but when his chest moved a little, the midwife took him to the warmer and gave him oxygen. Amazingly, he began breathing on his own and pinked up. The midwife called the nursery but when they saw him, they determined that he was too small and they didn't have what they needed to treat him.

He lived for about two hours. The midwife laid him on his mama's chest, skin to skin, where he snuggled with her until he died.

Amidst all this, the midwife turned to me and said, "If we were in your country, you would save him." 

And then my heart broke. 

I cannot imagine knowing what is available in other parts of the world and not having access to it. I saw this midwife's heart for these women and I saw her grieve her inability to help them in ways that she'd like to.

This sweet midwife showed such tenderness and compassion to the mama. She blessed me as I observed. In this blame culture, she had shone brightly. 

Later, I found her, eyes glazed over, and mentioned how she must see lots of hard things in her line of work. She burst into tears and shared with me her love for the Lord and for the women in the ward. She had just worked 24 hours straight was exhausted but if the Lord asked her to continue, she would for Him. Wow. I was humbled. 

I continued to check in on mama, not wanting her to feel smothered but yet, not wanting her to feel alone while she waited for her baby to die. At one point, I felt urged to tell her something I really believed she needed to hear. I got down close to her face and said, "You're a good mama and your baby knows you love him." It was heart-wrenching to watch her cry.

The day continued relatively uneventfully. A new doula trainee was working wondrous comfort for a mama going through a difficult labor. It was a pleasure watching her as she so naturally and gently served the woman.

I left that day feeling emotionally exhausted but so at peace. I marveled (and still am) that I was able to walk away from the day and not be completely wrecked. I walked into the depths of some very hard things but am acutely aware that Lord walked with me and His presence was palpable. 

Someday, there will be no more death. There will be no pain and no weeping.

Lord, your Kingdom come!

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