Labour Doesn't Wear a Watch

Labour and delivery is never black and white and to that mystery, add the unknowns of a third-world labour ward. Who will I see? What will I do? What will I step in? But I have learned to recognize some tell-tale signs of a busy ward, long before I walk through the doors. The way the building is designed, the windows in the ward open right out onto the breezy, outdoor corridor. Thankfully these windows are small and close to the ceiling preventing people from looking in and being scarred for life. 

(It should be noted that I did actually see a small child peering through the window one day. Someone had hoisted him up to look in, I assume for his mother. A midwife hollered and the little face disappeared. On another occasion, the spouse of a laboring woman was making little calls to her through the window until she went out into the corridor and told him to stop.)

As I was walking past these windows last weekend, I could hear the sounds of labour and new babies, and when I rounded the corner, the benches were full of waiting family members. A full day lay ahead of me!

My doula friend and I had just left our bags in the back room when we passed bed seven, the last in the ward, tucked away in a corner and hidden by a small partition. When I peeked through I saw that it had two occupants - a sleeping mama and her nursing infant. Because both were lying directly on the plastic mattress, I couldn't help but notice the growing pool of blood around the mother's body. I went straight over to a midwife and told her what I'd seen. She rushed over, gasped, and called for a doctor. They started three lines and did a sweep that produced some retained placental tissue and a blood clot the size of another placenta. I was proud of how quickly the staff worked to help her. She could have bled to death if they hadn't been so efficient. Not three hours later, the mama was standing and preparing to bathe. Amazing.

A preeclamptic mother delivered with much difficulty. It was her first and she got frustrated, so she pushed too soon and tore internally. In addition, the baby's head swelled making the already tight space, even tighter. When it came time to actually push, it was twice as difficult. Mama managed well and delivered a healthy baby boy, much to everyone's relief. 

One of our sweet midwifes went into labour herself! It was strange seeing her as a patient in all the familiar places. She wore a countenance of such joy and peace, even after being told her baby was in distress and she needed a c-section. We visited for awhile between my dashing off to check on other women. She talked to me like a friend which was such a gift. She told me everything about her labour thus far. We even visited about two other midwives - mutual friends that I haven't seen in awhile.

All seven beds were full so women were sitting in chairs, laying on the floor, and pacing the back hallway. One mother had been parked on the floor just outside the bathroom. People just stepped around her to go in and out. She hadn't made any noise and with so many others, she had gone unnoticed. That was until she told us that she felt like pushing. Thankfully, a bed had just been freed up so I hoisted her up and helped her into it. It was perfect timing because no sooner had she gotten settled, that her baby's head began to appear - just as quickly as the midwife disappeared! With such a full ward, I think she got distracted and wandered off! I asked my friend to go get her but we couldn't wait because the baby was crowning. I started in and was finishing delivering the baby's head when the midwife reappeared, but instead of taking over, she leaned against the wall and let me do it all! I delivered the baby, cut the cord, delivered the placenta, and checked for tears. Wow. Where else would I be allowed such freedom?? I signed my name as the delivery...um, person (as I do not have an official title) and began the cleanup. 

I know I've said this before but I have to say it again. It's an incredible experience to be so intimately involved in the entrance of new life. I realize that the mother didn't really have a say in who delivered her baby. I was the only other person around when the time came. However, there's an element of trust given when a mama is in such a vulnerable place. That is sobering. I pray my pride never gets in the way of making wise choices on behalf of these women. I pray for a teachable heart and wisdom to know when to step in and when to step away. That's a tough line when I'm the guest, yet there is so much to be done.

Mother and baby were healthy and resting when I moved away to help with another labour. When I returned to get a picture of the two of them, they were gone; moved to the postnatal ward. On another day, I would have gone looking for them but this day there was too much to do and I didn't want to leave. So I'm savoring my joy and laughing over the picture of the baby's placenta - the only two things I have to remind me of this wonderful day!

P.S. Oscar lives on. Despite midwife rumors that he was poisoned with the rest of his family, I saw him in the tea room, fatter and more shameless than ever. After all, rats have no scruples.

Joy to the World!

Christmas has come and gone just as quick as you can sing the merry words in a carol. The season was hot and muggy and the sounds of sleigh bells were replaced by the crooning of frogs and the buzz of crickets. Throw in a few crazy, tropical bird sounds and I felt as far away from wintery Colorado as I could possibly be. It was okay though. Last Christmas was horribly depressing as it was my first away from family, but this year was different. I've been taken in by a family who loves me as one of their own and I them. To be with these dear ones though the holidays was like a balm on my homesick heart. 

I managed to sneak into the ward one last time before Christmas. Things were relatively quiet and despite the gloomy surroundings, the mood of the staff was decidedly cheery and festive! A couple of weeks prior, I burned two CDs of Christmas music for one of the midwives. I agonized over which music to give her; not wanting to offend with my Michael Buble or bore with my instrumental. It was ridiculous how much mental energy was wasted on this train of thought. In the end, I chose a smattering of songs and Joyce seemed very happy with it. 

On this last visit before the end of the year, I was witness to two births! Both deliveries ended with the entrance of a healthy baby, thank goodness.

The day started with a woman bleeding all over the floor in the outside hallway. I went out to mop it up but forgot that the ringer on the bucket was broken. I bent down and began wringing rusty-brown water from the stringy mop. In the immense focus (and physical strength) it took to accomplish such a task, I splashed a bunch of the nasty water all over my legs. I mopped up some blood and plunged the mop back into the bucket for a "rinse" and again, I attempted to wring the mop by hand, again, splashing bloody water all over my legs. There was a crowd of ladies watching. I kept looking up and commenting on the amount of blood or nonchalantly trying to reassure them about my mopping abilities. Now I was embarrassed so I rushed to finish. I'm no wimp but I am certainly not sporting muscles from daily gardening, climbing mountains and hauling children everywhere. I can only imagine what they said after I left... Ha!

In true character of the ward, it wouldn't be right to end the year without some drama! One mama hemorrhaged and against the midwife's instructions, she tried to stand and walk to the bathroom. She passed out, dropping her cup of milo on the way down. I heard the crash and ran to check on her. I found her lying in a puddle of chocolate malt, broken glass and blood. Even more startling, as she fell, she grabbed the bassinet where her baby lay, pulling it down with her. When I got there, the mother was still clutching the baby's bed and the baby was about to fall out! We got both picked up and back in bed. Neither came to harm and I spent the next little while mopping up milo. By now, I had mastered a way around having to actually touch the mop with my hands. *high-five for me*

The other delivery was a third or fourth baby to a practiced laborer. She had a very difficult second stage and became really cranky and belligerent at the end. And who can blame her? I can't count the number of women who have yelled, "Just get it out of me!" Despite vacuum extraction, she delivered a healthy, chubby baby and she didn't even tear. Yes. I'll say it again in case you missed it. Vacuum extraction. No tearing. 

2014 was a wild year of adventure. It also had its fair share of heartaches which were then always completely overshadowed by glorious grace. I am reminded of the innumerable times that I felt I would positively burst from gratitude and that soul-deep joy over being shown the character of my Jehovah God, knowing what He accomplished through the cross and feeling so fulfilled when loving on those mamas and their babies. I think God's own words can best describe this.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith - of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire - may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls."                               I Peter 2:3-9

A happiest of New Years to you. May you better understand the all-sufficient love of Christ and what a gift it is to know Him! 

Precious Life

A quick story to give your heart some joy! As my friend and I were getting ready to leave for the day, we stopped by the bed of a woman whom we had been working with periodically throughout the day. She was extremely proactive in her labor and walked all the way up until she felt the urge to push and so she needed very little of our help. 

In our final conversation with her, she shared her story with us.

She was attending university, studying to be an accountant, when she and her husband found out they were pregnant. Not wanting a baby to interrupt her career plans, they both decided that she should terminate the pregnancy. She visited multiple clinics, unable to find a single person willing to help her abort her baby. She was frustrated and discouraged. One night during this time, she dreamt that she carried her baby to term and delivered a huge, healthy baby boy. In fact, her baby was 2-3 months old when she delivered him - moving, smiling and full of life. She was lying awake after her dream, thinking about it, when her husband rolled over to talk to her. He had just had a strange dream. He too dreamt that she delivered a baby boy but in his dream he saw their son grown - a big, strong man. He saw him running and playing rugby. Together that night, they decided not to abort their baby.

Fast forward to the day my friend and I were with her. We approached her bed, just as a huge baby boy was hoisted up onto her chest! Oh the grace and loving mercy of God! Her son gazed up into her face, wide-eyed, the entire time she talked to us. It was the loveliest thing I have ever seen. 

I am so very humbled to be apart of God's work among these women. What a privilege to hear their stories and walk with them for a portion of their journey. All glory to the mighty God who sees and knows and ministers unto His own.

Babies. Can't Get Enough of 'Em.

To quote a favorite BBC series, "Delivering babies is the stuff of life..." It's the truth. There's something absolutely wonderful about being present for the entrance of a new little human into the world. Then add the delight of helping the mama through her labor, or better yet, delivering that new little human. That is the stuff of life.

*sigh* Before I drift deeper into a labor induced (pun intended) daydream, I must record the latest adventure.

The friend who had been coming with me for the last few months has now left for the States and won't be back for at least a year so a new doula joined me this past weekend. She is mama to four, the last of whom she delivered in the very same hospital where we serve! There has been a lot of decline since the country received its independence and the hospital used to look very nice. This friend delivered her son some 24 years post-independence so while things looked better than they do now, it was no picnic. I am just in awe...

Back to my story... This particular day, there was a lovely Australian midwife named Jane visiting. She was staying on hospital grounds, helping for a few weeks and learning all she could from the national midwives who are a valuable source of "machine-free" midwifery information. She was the most adaptive, genuine guest I've ever observed in the ward. It was wonderful to watch her work. You could tell she loved what she did and her ability to make do with limited or no supplies made complete sense when she told us that she had worked in the poorest parts of India. It was refreshing to see a visitor who valued the women as people with families, a history and real feelings.

I moved around the ward, working with several different women. It was a typical busy day and lots of first-time mamas. I stepped into the little curtained area to watch Jane perform an examination on a mama who had just been admitted. This woman was delivering her 5th baby and progressing very quickly. 

I was just standing there, soaking in the information and minding my own business when Jane asked if I wanted to listen to the baby's heartbeat. Naturally I jumped at the opportunity to do something new so after a little instruction and palpating her belly myself, I found the heartbeat and listened. Then Jane asked if I'd like to do a vaginal check to measure dilation. Uh, yes. That would be, definitely, yes! I gloved up and following Jane's direction, I inserted two fingers and could feel the cervix (although very little), the bulging bag of waters and the baby's head! It was absolutely amazing.

And if that wasn't special enough, Jane then asked if I'd like to catch the baby. Again, yes. Jane, really, you don't need to ask...

It wasn't long before that little head, covered in wet, dark hair appeared. It was so special to be so much apart of the birth and have the opportunity to learn some new skills!

When I got home, I looked up some things about measuring dilation and the internet was not helpful. (big surprise) I'm going to have to get a text book to satisfy my hunger to learn more. Besides, learning about such intimate exams online seems just a little creepy. But don't worry. I'm not going to start delivering babies in the ward on a regular basis (Remember my vow to never to do anything medical? Ha!) but I do believe the more I know, the better equipped I am to help the midwives and the mamas, not to mention the benefit of just knowing what's going on when my brain isn't translating the language fast enough. 

I think some of what draws me to this work is that a large part of it is so subjective. No two labors are created equal and while you have to have a firm grasp of the physiology and intricate workings of labor, you then have to be prepared to reexamine them and figure out what this woman's labor is doing. It's hands-on, eyes-on, emotions-on work that comes with incredible joy or incredible heartache. 

My name went on the paperwork that day. So official. 

I'm So Excited, I Don't Even Know How to Title This Post

Well, I broke my cardinal rule.

 I delivered a baby. I DELIVERED A BABY!!!! And it was amazing. It was so amazing that my friend and I did a happy dance and clapped our hands when we were talking about it the following day. 

The mama in question had had a very straight forward labor and the baby's head was just beginning to appear when the midwife turned to me and said, "You deliver this one!"

To which I replied, "No! What if I screw something up!"

To which she says, "Nah, I'll be here with you!"

As I was already wearing gloves and in possession of all my teeth, it only seemed natural that I should step up to the task.

It was amazing but maybe I said that already. I just did what I had observed the midwives doing with nearly every delivery. While instructing the mama how to breath and when to push, I gently supported her tissues around the baby's head. When the head was delivered, I slipped the cord from around its neck and over its head. I told mama to push one more time and when her daughter was born, I put her up onto her chest. I even got to cut the cord.

I DELIVERED A BABY!!!

I realize that I participated in possibly the easiest delivery on the planet earth, but folks, I participated!

I'm still doing that happy dance (on the inside where it's more socially acceptable...).

I hope this delivery was the first of many for my records. 

*smiling ear to ear*

Even Chuck Norris Would Be Impressed!

I went to the ward alone this past weekend. I normally go with one other but no one was available so I decided to brave the adventures el numero uno. Being that I live in a third world country and don't have a drivers license (nor do I want one), I had to find someone to give me a ride into town. If I could digress a moment and mention that Western culture stresses independence so strongly - the importance of a person to know themselves and act as an individual. Well I'll tell you what, I used some of that independence to get here but then lost a lot when I moved into this fenced-in compound. All that to say, it's ALWAYS nice to get out!

I participated in three labors during my 8 hours in the ward. I think that sweet moment of delivery is the best part and because I was the lone doula, I got to move from one best part to the next without feeling like I was hogging all the fun! 

All three babies were strong, healthy boys and the first two were delivered after beautiful labors. The third looked a little bit different... Through most of this mama's labor, she was like a focused athlete and was in this terrific rhythm with her breathing and her swaying with each contraction. I watched in awe as she performed instinctively with little to no help from me! She'd close her eyes, moan in low tones and refuse to even sit down. Her exhaustion was starting to catch up with her because more than once her legs buckled and I had to catch her.

And then came transition. Imagine the growl of a grizzly bear crossed with the war cry of Attila the Hun. Yup. The transformation was startling but mama had shown such focus and endurance, I figured we were good. I think, as it happens with lots of ladies, she became overwhelmed by the speed and intensity of her contractions and then she lost it. She began throwing her arms in the air and groping around for some invisible something, perhaps to draw her focus. Problem was, she had her eyes closed so each time she flung her arms, I had to duck and dodge out of the way! Sometimes I would put myself in the way and let her find me with her arms hoping that she would hold onto me because remember, she's been standing for hours now and is literally teetering. She would accept my help half of the time but if I moved, even just to get her water or go to the other side of the bed, she would open her eyes and clutch at my arm.   

Whelp, then mama squatted and peed on the floor right by her bed and in her weak attempt to stand, she slipped in it and I caught her... The adventures went on and on. When the midwife came to check on her she had already been pushing for a bit. We got her up on the bed and again, I moved a little, trying to stay out from under foot but mama found the soft (too soft) part of my upper arm and worked it over like she was making meat loaf. It was all I could do not to cry out - it hurt so bad!

She eventually delivered but with a LOT of coaching from midwives and me. She seemed to lose the will to have her baby naturally and kept asking for a c-section so her pushing was half-hearted and not very productive.

All of us were exhausted when it was all over. Two things I learned from this day: First, labor is unpredictable, as are the women I work with. What starts out as a beautiful example of physiology and mental will-power working in unison can quickly turn south so be prepared to change your game plan and figure out what works. Sometimes, you don't get to DO anything but be present and available. AND second... Pay for the darn gym membership. Work on those muscles because you're going to need them.

  

Spit Out Your Gum and Don't be a Creeper!

A little nugget of wisdom... Don't chew gum and work with a mama at the same time. Unless you are extremely sanguine and relaxed. I popped a piece in one day and unbeknownst to me, I was chewing that stuff within an inch of its life. I'm surprised it didn't just disintegrate in my mouth! With each contraction, I chomped harder and faster until hours later, my jaw was crying for mercy. There are other means of obtaining minty-fresh breath. Just saying.

On another note, my doula friend is leaving me for another region. I'm sad. Don't get me wrong. I'm so excited for her and her family and where the Lord is leading them but my selfish side is just sad. She has been a tremendous encouragement to me as I've stepped out into the unknown and very unusual realm of labor and delivery. She has taught me so many valuable doula skills and opened the door for experience that I would never have gotten anywhere else and some really special relationships with the national staff at the hospital. But above all, she's taught me this tangible love of another and has demonstrated such grace and gentleness. 

Last week we were bent over in tears, laughing so hard at our awkwardness the last time we were in the ward together. A mama in transition was demonstrating none (and I mean NONE) of the usual signs of this very physically-taxing change in labor. She was up, walking, sipping on water and smiling like she'd just been told she'd scored the prize-winning hog. It was confusing for my friend and I who had been checking on her and monitoring her dilation all the way up to 10 cm. She had been quiet through the entire process and we praised her composure but now... Don't you wanna push mama? 

There were no other laboring women in the ward at the time and in our eagerness to see this thing through to the sweet end, we hovered. Yes. We were helicopter doulas and if this lady made the slightest sound or movement, we were there, offering water, a little massage or a word of encouragement. It was all well and good until she got up to go to the bathroom and we followed her. All you listening out there - if a woman is stable on her feet, shows no signs of pushing and for crying out loud, is smiling (!), let her have a minute alone to pee! 

My friend and I visited while we waited for her but little did we realize, we had followed her right up to the bathroom door and were blocking the poor lady's exit from the bathroom. When she opened the door, we had to move so she could get around us! But, as before, she was smiling and acting like delivering a baby was her usual Saturday activity. Bless her heart.

After that awkwardness, we backed off. I can't imagine that it makes a mama feel at ease when the doulas are acting like groupies. 

In the end, we needed to leave and she still hadn't delivered but I am confident that she did just fine without us. In fact, she was probably glad to have a little breathing room.

  
  

8 Pounds of Good News!

Imagine my surprise when I peeked through the curtain and saw a mama in the waiting area, legs splayed, puddle of water on the floor and the family rushing around her in excited concern.

I couldn't get out to her right away and neither could the midwives so her family took her into the closest room, the place where the midwives do paper work and drink tea. When I got there, the mama was squatting down pushing and her mother was right there preparing to catch her grandbaby! 

Unsure of what to do and not wanting to ask them to move, I just talked excitedly about the coming baby and for more details about what was going on.

Just when I was running out of things to ask, the midwife came in and rather abruptly told the mama to follow her to a bed. The mother's hands we wet with amniotic fluid so I showed her to a sink and while she washed, we visited.

She told me that this was her daughter's second child. Her first had been born at the hospital on a busy day when there wasn't enough staff and it had died. Oh how my heart went out for this mama! How she must be reliving that horrible day right at that moment! Her mother clutched my arm, looked into my eyes and pleaded with me to take care of her daughter.  

Oh sweet lady. Let me tell you about my Lord who already knows your daughter and loves her deeply. I wish I would've said these words out loud.

After showing the mother back out to the waiting area, I went over and stood with her daughter. Within a few moments, a big baby boy came splashing out into the cold room. It didn't seem to register for this mama that her child was here, alive and healthy. It wasn't until she put her hands on her baby that her face softened. I think it was then that she really saw him.

As my friend and I were leaving the ward, we passed the family, all anxiously awaiting any news of their daughter and sister. The mother jumped up and rushed over to me. "Has she had the baby? Is it alright? Is she alright?" The questions came in a hurry and I barely caught each one as my brain translated. I answered.

"She has delivered!"

"What is it??!"

"It's a boy!"

Then came all the hugs, the kisses, laughter and perhaps a little dancing! Any bystander may have thought we were apart of their family if my friend and I weren't so white!

We left laughing and praising God. 

The Miracle of Life!

I'd like to start with a shout out for the abdominal lift-pelvic tuck! A mama I worked with wasn't progressing very well and was getting really frustrated and vocal. The out-of-control kind of vocal. She was up and down off the bed which was wonderful so the next time she stood, I explained what I wanted her to do and tried to show her. She was so miserable and my explanation wasn't helping her understand. She also wasn't too keen on me pausing in the back rubbing to explain anything so the next time she contracted, I stood beside her, lifted her belly with my right arm and rubbed her back with my left. Because of my lifting, she naturally tilted her pelvis forward. It was great! We did this through two contractions. I can't imagine how awkward we looked. The pictures in books and online, show this gentle, supportive maneuver that generally doesn't involve any struggle or grunting from the doula. Oh well. I'm pretty convinced the abdominal lift is what kicked this mama's labor forward. She delivered an hour and a half later. Woop woop! 

I have never cried at a birth...until now. I've been wide-eyed or worried and of course, ALWAYS happy when each mama delivers and it truly is beautiful. Those who mock (generally guys) and mimic in a silly high voice about birth being "the miracle of life" have clearly missed something in their experiences with it, or have just missed out all together. It IS a miracle!

The other day, I was vigorously rubbing a mama's back and providing lots of counter-pressure. I was also giving LOTS of hip squeezes per her request. I'm telling you all of this to point out that I was pooped. My arms and back were protesting, along with my bladder. With promises to come back as fast as I could, I dashed away to the bathroom.

When I returned, I found her husband had sneaked in through the curtain on the side of the bed where he wouldn't be observed by any nurses or midwives and he was rubbing her back!! I gave him two thumbs up and promised not to give him away! 

Some minutes later, mama called for me. Maybe all those years of farm labor (don't laugh mom) have paid off because she wanted my firm massage. Her husband whispered very sweetly, "Good luck!" and sneaked back the way he came.

Some minutes after that, mama wanted to stand but was feeling dizzy so she put both arms around my neck, laid her head on my chest and hung with me supporting her. It is such a privilege to have a mama put her trust in me to hold her so closely during a time that she will never forget, like the birth of her child. Which is why it was so beautiful when she asked me to get her husband to come hold her in the same way. Again, I told no one and he held his wife while she moved into transition.

When it came time for her to push, he was kicked out and I took to her side again. When their daughter was born and bellowed out that lusty cry of a healthy baby, I peeked through the curtain and there was that great big man, sitting on a bench a few yards away, just crying like a fool. 

Mama let me carry their daughter out for him to see. I laid her in his arms and he just stared and sniffed and wiped the tears away and in a low voice whispered, "We were praying for a girl."

This is when I walked away and started crying. It was absolutely beautiful. I haven't seen anything quite like that here. The culture dictates that women who come to the haus sik labor almost alone and most husbands don't seem to take a tender interest in their wives. This was the exception and I was so pleased to step aside and let the husband comfort the wife. It was as it should be. 

Later on I headed over to check on mama and new baby and got more of their story. This was their first child. Due to medical issues, they weren't sure she would be able to carry to term. When they found out she was pregnant, they began praying for a girl (also counter-cultural) and so when she delivered a healthy baby and a girl nonetheless, they were over the moon. 

The couple insisted I take their phone number (oh alright, twist my arm) and I am excited to call them for a visit soon! Oh I love this work.    

   

Business As Usual

It was a GREAT day in the ward last weekend. Several students were working with their instructors, the doctors were making their rounds and my friend and I were supporting in a full ward so it was crowded! Here's a list of several surprising things that took place:

~ My first task of the morning was to dry up a chair-full of rain water that had leaked from the ceiling. As soon as I was finished, a woman, very relieved and great-with-child, rushed over and sat down.

~My friend and I found two ladies laboring in a back hallway as there were no open beds.

~There was a power outage in the middle of the day. It didn't cause any problems and almost everyone seemed not to notice.

~There were no gloves to be found right as a mama was crowning so I took off my left hand glove and gave it to a student - a glaring reminder of the lack of general "conveniences" that we enjoy in the States.

~A midwife put on a family planning video for the mamas who were waiting for beds. The video dramatizes a village woman dying from a complicated labor. It's pretty depressing and the LAST thing I'd want to see right before or after delivering my own child.

~It was a pleasure observing and talking with the students. They were so gentle and calm and seemed to have genuine hearts toward the mamas. I think their presence added a peaceful element to the ward rather than a chaotic one.

~Towards the end of the day, a midwife turned on her favorite music for all the ward to hear. What was it, you ask? Why bluegrass and country, of course! It was a strange sensation to be in a place so far from home and hear the familiar. It made me homesick.

~I spent hours squatting next to a mama in a space no bigger that 3 ft. wide. Only second to the birth of a healthy baby, that type of support is the most rewarding to me. I want to be right down next to them, in the midst of their pain and fear, speaking truth and comfort and massaging aching muscles.

~I am proud to report that I recognized and followed the changes in stages in one mama's labor. The looks, the sounds and the postures were accurate to what I've been learning outside the ward. So exciting to apply my new knowledge practically!  

~I have another namesake! It is such a pleasure and so fulfilling to walk through labor with these women. I love this work!

Beginnings!

Where to begin... I’m new to this - new to it in every sense of the word. Until a month ago, I had never provided labor support to any human (cats and goats certainly don’t count) and being unmarried with no children, I have never experienced labor in all its particulars. As you can imagine, witnessing delivery for the first time was amazing…and eye opening. But I’ll get into that later.

I live in a third world country far from the comforts of sleep number beds and Starbucks or consistent water and power for that matter. My training and background work is medical but not in the realm of labor and delivery. Over two months ago, a dear friend of mine opened my eyes to the difficulty women here have when delivering their babies. Infant mortality rates are through the roof and mother mortality rates aren't pretty either. The records for this country don't take into account the deaths happening in the bush so I'll just tell you the broader picture. Every day worldwide, 32 thousand children under the age of five die. Every day, 800 women die from pregnancy and childbirth. Here, hospital care is meager and cleanliness standards are appalling. In our labor and delivery ward, there is one toilet for all the women. A couple of buckets are used between them all for pre-delivery “bathing” and the ward sports a whopping two (count them – two!) pillows that get moved around between the seven beds.

Not only is the environment rough, these ladies labor almost entirely alone! Family members aren't allowed to come into the ward with them. They are checked in by a nurse or midwife, given a bed and then left to themselves. A nurse or midwife is suppose to come around every 4 hours to check their progress but if the ward is busy or they are short staffed, that can drag out much longer. Only when a mama is ready to push (and I mean seriously you-can-see-the-baby’s-head push) does a nurse or midwife stay with them to catch the baby.

To be in excruciating pain, afraid and exhausted, without the support of a husband or mother or sister must be so incredibly lonely.

This is where my friend comes in. She has been providing doula support to these ladies for some months now but there are more than she can care for alone so she has trained me and one other to accompany her! I'm not paid for this special job but I've gotten to witness God's faithfulness again and again and that is abundant compensation for all the hard work.

I look forward to using this space to tell of my adventures, the heartache and the Father’s provision as I support and love on these special mamas.