Friday, September 30, 2011

Taller than the average...



Nyibol insisted she deliver on her back even though she was too long for the bed. When I asked if she wouldn’t prefer kneeling, she mumbled something about it being too late.

But she didn’t look comfortable at all. So I asked again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get off this bed,” I asked, watching her push with her head hanging off the top of the bed.

She was tall. Very tall.

“Too late,” she whispered, “Cannot move.”

I didn’t argue. She was right. This baby would arrive in no time.

Slapping away the mosquitoes frantically hovering above her body, I spoke to her softly in my broken Dinka.

“Baby coming. Head there. Good job, Nyibol. Push!”

No one can accuse me of speaking Dinka well, but I’ve mastered a few key phrases. And it’s made all the difference.

At the sound of my words, she locked eyes with me and smiled, then let her head hang off the bed again. The contraction had ended.

I smiled back. I couldn’t help it. Her exhausted, gap-toothed grin was infectious.

A few pushes later and the head started to crown. However her position wasn’t ideal for restitution, and he stalled. I tried to move her a bit for the baby to come out with ease, but she couldn’t understand my instructions.
    -- Dang it... if only I spoke fluently.

So instead I put her in the McRobert’s position, and he was born the next push.

When I picked him up to place him on his mama’s belly, his massive legs kicked the air in surprise. It took both hands and my total concentration not to drop him.

He was a big’in!

Afterward as we tried to wrap him in a receiving blanket, he didn’t fit! It couldn’t cover both his head and his toes at the same time.

Truly this was his mother’s son!

Weight: 4.1 kg or 9 lbs!  Length: Future NBA star!

1 comment:

  1. What a beautiful photo of you all, Both of you have an infectious grin. I can imagine that language must be a frustration at times like that. Bless you beautiful woman of God. :)

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