I Don't Have to Understand Why

I've seen some hard things at the haus sik. And each time I've marveled at God's grace. He has walked with the mamas and me through some incredibly dark places. 

Today felt different. 

Today I was reminded how little I understand God's plan and His reasoning. I know that I can't know all the details of God's working or how He'll choose to glorify Himself but I have felt reasonably confident that He is good. And even now, I know in my head that He is good but it doesn't feel that way. What I saw today doesn't "fit" with what I know of God. I feel as if I'm committing blasphemy by admitting this but, in my finite flesh, I don't understand. I want to tilt my head back and scream it - I DON'T UNDERSTAND, GOD!!

Today I held a woman in my arms and wiped the tears from her face while she delivered her 15 week-old baby. The victim of a rape at gun point, she showed me the mark, still purple, from where the man pushed the butt of his gun into her face, just to the right of her nose. She told me how he threatened to kill her. She became pregnant and in her shame and anger, aborted her baby. The result of such an invasive, unsterile "procedure" caused not only the death of her baby but uterine sepsis.

I looked at her and felt an overwhelming need to hold and comfort her. She was in obvious physical pain but her emotional turmoil was impossible to ignore. 

She asked if she could go sit on the toilet to deliver but I told her that she needed to stay in the bed because she was on a drip of oxytocin. I imagine she just wanted to get it all over with in a fashion that seemed "normal" like going to the bathroom.

I stayed with her for a long time and we talked. She told me that no man would want her now. In my naivety, I said, "Surely a good man will know that this (speaking of the rape) is not what you wanted and that it wasn't your fault." She looked into my face and said, "This is {insert country name}." I was taken aback by her direct response and I was acutely aware of how much I still have to learn about these people and their culture. For a moment, I felt like the outsider again. 

After the delivery, upon closer inspection, I could see a large hole in the baby's skull but he was otherwise, completely perfect with all his little fingers and toes. His umbilical cord was as thin as dental floss. The doctor came and had to help deliver the placenta which was difficult as her cervix hadn't completely opened. It was a painful and humiliating procedure undertaken by a male doctor.

When all was delivered and taken away to the trash, she rolled over onto her side and slept for a long time. When she awoke, she ate and washed and was then asked to leave. I don't know if she went to another ward or if she went home but I didn't see her again.

Even now, as I think about the day and my time with her, I am bewildered. If God wanted to glorify Himself and make His Name known, couldn't he have done that by stopping this evil in its tracks? Or couldn't He have brought someone along to show this woman His love and forgiveness and persuaded her to carry the baby to term? My list of His "options" goes on and on. 

Scripture says that God seeks to and will glorify Himself regardless of man's actions. But don't misunderstand this. God isn't a big-headed dictator seeking a pride-filled glory as we may imagine a human might run after. Rather, He is a gracious, loving, perfect Heavenly Father who's worth we cannot even fully understand in our flesh. How then could we completely understand the purity of His quest for glory? Or how could we accurately know the depths of His goodness when we still inhabit these bodies and reside on this planet? Our idea - my idea - of true goodness and love is flawed - flawed to the very core of my being and will remain so until I'm in eternity with Him.

But with all that I don't know, I know that I can rest in this: In His grace, He has allowed me to know Him. He has shown me that I don't have to understand His reasons for doing (or not doing) something because all I have to do is know Him - know His character and trust the perfect God who holds the entire world in His hand. The ability to have a relationship with the Creator of the universe is a gift and a steadfast rock to lean on.

I will never know His reasoning for why this girl had to live through this horror and her baby end up in the trash, thrown out and unwanted. Tonight my heart wrestles with it. I weep for this woman and her heart. And I'm mad. Not necessarily at God but at evil and my own flesh that causes my inability to understand the full sovereignty of God. I want so badly to just know why. But in answer to my cries, Jehovah says, "Know me. That's all you have to do."

1 John 5:19 & 20 - "We know that we are children of God, and that the whole world is under the control of the evil one. We know also that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know Him who is true. And we are in Him who is true - even in His Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life." 

That Sneaky Foe, The Anterior Cervical Lip

Let's do some math. 12 laboring mamas. 2 available beds. That's craziness right there. I don't need to tell you that the ward was PACKED yesterday. Everywhere I looked, there were pregnant women - some composed, sitting and patiently waiting, others bent over, moaning and clutching at whatever would hold their weight. It was overwhelming and I didn't know where to begin or whom to choose first! 

I decided to offer my services to a young mama who was lying on a gurney in the back hallway. As she was making the most noise, I thought this would be the most helpful. If anything, to help calm her and make the environment more relaxing for the 11 other ladies hanging around. She was soaked in amniotic fluid and writhing around on the little plastic mattress. She was in labor with her fourth child who was overdue by almost two weeks. 

We were both relieved when she was finally given a bed and a midwife checked her progress. She was 8 cm! She had gone through most of her labor alone in that dirty, dimly-lit stretch of forgotten hallway. Poor woman! 

She was by far, the loudest mama I have ever worked with. She screamed at the top of her lungs with each contraction. Not a high-pitched girly scream but one of those deep, she-man, start-with-a-growl, crazy lady screams. At one point during her labor, she was standing with her arms around my neck. A contraction came on strong and fast and she took in a deep breath for, what I was sure was going to be another banshee cry so I braced myself for the impending hearing loss but it never came! I congratulated myself on a small victory for it was all I could do to keep her in the good graces of the ward staff. She was scolded multiple times for making too much noise and somehow, I felt personally responsible for her receiving the correction! I know that's ridiculous but I felt that I should be doing more to calm her and help her focus. 

Well along came 10 cm and the urge to push but a check by a nursing student showed a little lip of skin that was preventing the baby from descending properly through the birth canal. Now they were saying she wasn't fully dilated! As if this poor mama hadn't already had a hard day, she was told to, "Rest for an hour and then you can push." Um, what?! She was in agony as each contraction brought the overwhelming urge to do what was the natural next step. I'm aware that the muscles will contract and "push" by themselves without any work from the mama but this woman was told not to help - not to bear down. Oh boy.

I was so proud of her as she shifted positions and rolled from side to side to try and maintain control. A couple of times, she got up to squat but was sternly told that she needed to get back in bed, lie down and rest. Ugh. So frustrating for both of us. I thought the squatting would be helpful in moving that lip out of the way and that it would be a pain relieving posture. Each time she was told to relax or a contraction came, she looked into my eyes with the most pleading, pathetic expression. If it had been me, I would have threatened to punch that student if he used the words "rest" or "relax" again! 

After the longest hour, she was allowed to help in what her body was already doing and she delivered a big baby girl within a few minutes of resuming her pushing. 

This entire situation perplexed me so when I got home, I looked up what I could find on the little bit of skin that thwarted this mama's labor. Here's what I found and I am so excited because it describes my situation exactly! I hope this info is helpful for you too. Although, you probably already knew what was going on... Apparently, that bit of skin is referred to as the "anterior cervical lip" and is very common. The author of the article below talks about the physiology of this particular point in labor which offers great insight into why the anterior cervical lip even happens.

http://midwifethinking.com/2011/01/22/the-anterior-cervical-lip-how-to-ruin-a-perfectly-good-birth/

There you have it. I wish I had just a little more authority in the ward. (famous last words) If I did, I would have gone ahead and told that mama to let her body dictate what happened next. I would have let her push and praised her desire to squat. And I would have let her she-man holler all she wanted. Hey, if it helps...

   

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.

  
  

Baby by Vacuum?

Two words: Vacuum Extractor. Sound scary? Well it is. At least I think so. 

I had heard about this contraption and had even seen it sitting on its shiny metal cart, tucked away against the wall just waiting for its next victim. But I had never seen it in use...until this weekend.

Just the word "extract" sounds unnatural and painful - like what happens at the dentist when you have to get a tooth pulled. Or the machine in the Princess Bride that sucks the life out of people.

Well it is unnatural and it's the method by which the doctor "extracts" a baby who is stuck (for lack of a better word). I had visions of horrific events that precipitated the vacuum extractor's use and my overly active imagination was checked because I got to witness this first-hand just the other day and it wasn't the torture I had anticipated.

The mama in question had fully dilated but didn't have the urge to push. The baby's heart rate was climbing and it was in distress. The one doctor who was currently in the hospital and qualified to perform the extraction was finishing a C-section and wasn't available right away. 

Welp, that leaves one, very uncomfortable and increasingly more fearful mama and myself, the new doula, trying to keep mama at peace and somewhat comfortable while attempting to track what's happening as hospital staff communicate at warp speed in a foreign language.

Eventually the doctor arrived clad in rubber rain boots and a giant rubber apron. He opened a sterile tray and pulled out a metal cup-shaped device, about 3 inches across, with a little chain attached. Honestly, my first thought was, "Oh that looks like the thing that expresso grounds are packed into when you make those fancy lattes!" Leave it to me to be thinking about coffee at a time like that.

The doc put some cream into the metal cup, I assume to create a vacuum, and then put it up inside the mama and right onto the the baby's vertex. Then they plugged the contraption in, turned the suction on and told mama to push with her next contraction, whether she felt the urge or not. 

What was interesting (and hurt just to watch) was when the doctor put a pair of hemostats through the chain and pulled! *insert shudder*  Between the vacuum suction, the doctor pulling and the mama's contractions, out came a huge baby girl! 

This was a 41-week, first baby, born to a petite woman via vacuum extractor so she tore horribly and it took the nurse over an hour to get her stitched up. 

On the bright side, the baby was healthy and the mama was trying to hobble out to see family shortly thereafter. Have I mentioned how resilient these women are? 

So, thus ends my first experience with The Extractor. However unusual and painful it was, it turned out to be far less dramatic than my imagination had made it out to be. 

So glad. So very glad.

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.    

   

God's Providence

I couldn't wait to get to the ward this past weekend. I had been looking forward to going for days so when I walked down the hall towards labor and delivery and heard the familiar sounds of advanced labor, I was excited! Sweet babies! New mamas! A satisfying day filled with back rubs and the bestowing of courage! Perhaps a little too cheerful? 

There were two mamas pushing and doing a very good job. I immediately moved to one bed, that of an HIV positive woman, and introduced myself. Within minutes she said, "I can feel the head!" I took a little peek and sure enough, something was happening! Her membranes were still intact and her baby was crowning still in it's sack! 

The baby's head was born before I could get a nurse's attention so I very awkwardly supported it with one hand and encouraged the mama to slow down and breathe in little puffs. 

The nurse barely had her gloves on when, out came that sweetie, water bag and all! What a gift from God that she was protected from her mama's disease! 

I never want to step on toes, damage the relationship I have with the nurses and midwives or just royally screw something up so I stick solely to my doula job. Thus, I watched for what felt like an eternity while the nurse just looked at the baby lying on the bed! I think she was hesitant to touch it as it was from a woman with HIV. 

I'm sure it was only seconds later, she scooped that baby up by one leg and laid her across her mama's chest. It was only then that I noticed the amniotic fluid pooling on the plastic mattress and dripping down my leg and the front of my blouse. Awesome. And we're only 30 minutes into the day!

The ward was quiet - unusually so and it afforded my friend and I the opportunity to team up and work with another woman for the rest of the afternoon. 

She dilated fully and then rolled over for a nap! After a long rest, she squatted, with the help of my rebozo tied to the bed frame. After much pushing and a lot of encouragement, she delivered a tiny, lifeless baby. And my heart leaped into the back of my throat. 

The baby boy was so small and so white. The nurse took him to the warmer and began CPR. She was struggling to get a tight seal with the ambu bag and wasn't getting good breaths in the infant. A midwife came and started to hook up a nasal cannula but found the oxygen tank was empty. I wanted to scream as I watched all of this take place in what felt like slow motion.

At the time, I wasn't giving these two ladies enough credit (and I can imagine they would've preferred I wasn't watching). They've seen it all and they've dealt with it all. After this weekend, I have a great deal more respect for these tough women!

They worked together and a long 20-some minutes later, color was returning to the hands and arms of the baby and he let out a little cry - the sweetest sound on earth. After some more time and oxygen, while not out of the woods, he was breathing more steadily and looking quite nice and pink.

As we were leaving to go home, I marveled at God's providence. He protected a baby girl by allowing her to be born inside her bag of waters and He kept the ward quiet so that we could pour all of our attention on a first-time mama and the nurses could pour all of their energy and knowledge into a tiny, baby boy.  

It was a good day.  

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!

Newbie and Not Ashamed!

So, as I mentioned earlier, childbirth is a new experience for me. Oh, I've seen "it" in movies but Hollywood speeds up the process considerably. And all that screaming... That kind of drama is VERY unappreciated and strongly discouraged in my little ward. In fact, a couple weeks ago, I watched a midwife slap a mama for being too dramatic. Because, you know, labor is nothing. Suck it up!

But I digress. My first day in the ward was an education! When my friend and I first arrived, we walked past the waiting...bench (there are no upholstered chairs and magazine racks) and clutching a trash can grunting was a very uncomfortable looking woman. For you seasoned doulas, you know what grunting means! This was of course lost on me, it being my first day, so when she was given a bed and began pushing right away, I was shocked! I think this ruined me because it planted a seed of thought something like this, "Wow! Labor is fast! I can't believe it's over already!" Little did I know... *insert sarcastic laugh*

However, this was a wonderful way to start my blossoming career as a doula. When you walk onto a scene such as this ward, with all its cultural and health implications, you don't know what to expect. To witness a normal, easy, fast labor right out of the shoot was a blessing. This mama was a pro, as it was her third.

So, having one under my belt, I felt more confident moving two beds over to support a first-time mama. She was so scared and each contraction brought panic. I rubbed her back and hips and talked to her about her baby for hours. I tried to get her up to walk but she wasn't having any of it. She was too miserable to leave her bed.

Remember what I said earlier about drama being frowned upon? Well, this sweet lady was getting a little too excited so she was given a muscle relaxant and she conked out for a couple hours. I suppose this was a mercy because when she woke up her contractions came back like a vengeance progressing her labor along nicely.

She squatted to push with my friend and I as support. Only at the last moment did she lay on her back. It was so delightful to watch the determination on her face and to see her responding to our encouragement! Before long she delivered a healthy, beautiful baby girl.

If this wasn't wonderful enough, she grabbed my hand and in her native tongue, told me how thankful she was that I had stayed with her throughout the entire process. When the time came, she gave her baby girl my name! Now that makes for a red-letter first day as a doula-in-training! Needless to say, I was hooked.

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.