Baby Season!

Adeng after the birth. Her son is in my arms.

Today is the first day in about a week that I’ve not been labor watching... or baby catching... or  running around counting heart tones on every preggo in sight!

I'm happy but thankful for the reprieve.

Am I tired?     --Most definitely.  
But am I fried?    --Not even close.

There has been a joy surrounding these births that can only be the Lord. These women are coming in answer to my heart’s cry! I couldn’t be happier.

Last night Margaret and I delivered three more babies --two boys and a girl. Each birth was unique and special.

The first one to deliver, Adeng, had been quietly laboring for three days (two of which she spent in the clinic) before she pushed her baby out!

She had two doulas with her --a close friend who never left her side and an aunt who quietly sat back and cheered.

Her husband came to check on her regularly. Young and proud, he watched everything closely (especially how I treated his wife!) but didn’t stay long each time.

But despite the sleepless nights, we were able to stave off exhaustion, and when it came time to push she gave it her all. She was so in-tuned to her body! What a delight to watch.

When he finally made his way out with that last gentle push, the room erupted in praise. Laughing in relief, I looked up at Adeng only to see the most radiant smile shining back at me. She then started crying for joy, and thanking us over and over in her limited English.

Her sweet friend clung to her neck and cried tears of joy as well, and for some time everyone in the room was overcome.

We wept. We giggled. We praised God for His goodness!

My necklace and sweet Giver. 

(Fun side note: Earlier that day, this friend had pulled me aside to give me a gift. Quickly taking a brightly beaded necklace from her pocket, she slipped it over my head saying, “Now you are Sudan!” with an admiring grin of satisfaction. We slapped hands in thanks and she shyly stole away before I could make too much of it. What a honor!)

The second baby born that night was to Ajok! She, too, was a superstar. But unlike Adeng, she came in ready to push.

She was a solid 7 cm dilated when she arrived but with very good contractions. So I encouraged her to walk.

Wordlessly she got up and marched the clinic grounds. Her friends followed close at hand encouraging her to endure.

Ajok breastfeeding her son.

At one point I found her kneeling in the dirt out front --her friends squatting before her. I thought she might be pushing so I went to investigate. As it turns out, her friends were just rubbing her belly with spit as a blessing!

Not 10 minutes later her son was born!

She went from 7 cm to baby out in 20 minutes!

The last labor to deliver was Hala. She, too, had an entourage of well-wishers and friends; they’d been following her around all afternoon.

Although I could not understand all they were saying, I could tell that they were annoying her immensely. She kept trying to hide from them, but they wouldn’t leave her side. They followed her like a gaggle of geese --quacking and clacking about.

Only 15 years old, she acted her age and pouted with the pain. Every now and again, she indulged in some self-pity, but it never lasted very long.

Her enormous belly poked straight out like an arrow as she waddled about, and every where she went her geese followed.

I caught her peeking during both of the other births and smiled at how jealous she looked.

In fact, after Ajok’s 20 minute birthing spree, I found Hala lurking in the hallway slacked-jawed and a bit horrified... or was it indignant.

Smiling I caught her eye and she stormed off to pout by herself. Her unspoken question ringing loudly as she left was, “When will it be MY turn?”

Although I suspected her to be fully, the baby’s head was still molding and she needed to labor-down. So I encouraged her to keep moving.

She walked, stomped, sulked, then eventually slept.

I laughed as her family questioned me about her progress.
-- “Are you sure she’ll deliver tonight?”
-- “Yes. Tonight. And soon.”
-- “But she’s sleeping...”
-- “Don’t worry. The baby is coming tonight.”

Her gaggle eventually went home to their families, leaving behind her closest friend. And she slept on. Frankly, I was excited to see her sleeping; it was the ‘calm before the storm’.

Since my shift was up, I handed her over to Margaret and tried to get some sleep. I was on-call as back-up, of course, but I was getting punchy from fatigue. I needed sleep.

Fortunately, I was able to get an hour or so before they called for re-enforcements. I arrived to find her pushing but not very effectively.

Although it was 1 AM, her gaggle had returned and were calling instructions through the window. But this time they brought the men.

-- “Shove a cloth in her mouth so she can push longer!” suggested her husband.
-- “Make her kneel!” cried another.
-- “Confess, Hala, so you can deliver!” encouraged a third.

She ignored them all and pushed again and again. Progress was slow, but with time she found her groove and a chubby girl made her debut.

Hala's precious little girl.

The crowd outside cheered! Hala was amazing!

Later that night when I crawled into bed, my body ached with the joys of the day, but I was happy. So many blessings! So many sweet answers to prayer!

Thank you for praying for us -- please keep it up. Baby season is just beginning!

Easy as 1 - 2 - 3!

 My alarm sounded, pulling me from a fuzzy dream of distant lands. It was time to greet the day, but I wasn’t ready. Turning in my bed, I hit the snooze once, then twice trying to return to my dream.

Knock-knock-knock.

Someone was at my door. Startled but awake, I rushed to answer it.

I was greeted by an even sleepier Margaret ready to brief me on a labor that had just arrived. My labor-watch shift was starting.        

Apparently a not-too-active G2 had just arrived; I had time for coffee.

I dressed in the dark, blindly finding scrubs that matched then heated water for coffee. I figured even if she wasn’t active now, G2’s (Aka: Gravida 2 or woman expecting her second child) are unpredictable. I needed to be ready.

The blue light of dawn was just starting to roll across the sky, but the clinic was already buzzing.       

“It’s gonna be a busy one,” I thought to myself as I pushed pass the patients sleeping on the clinic front porch. They too were rubbing sleep from their eyes.

Settling into the birth room, I got things arranged and started sipping my coffee. I was just about to go look for my patient when I heard urgent voices and a rustling at my door.

Turning I found a young girl in orange being hurried along by three others. They dropped her at my feet, then started talking over each other.

Moaning and pushing with determination and grit, I recognized her as the G1 (aka: first time mom) that had come each morning for the last two days convinced it was time.     -- It wasn’t.



However now it really was! Not only was she in labor but she was close.                   --So close.

Long story short she delivered a few minutes later. A boy!

I had them cleaned up and resting by the time most of my prenatal ladies had arrived. But it had been well over an hour and I had yet to meet my G2. She was off somewhere in the wings.

I tracked her down near the mango tree.

Her contractions looked effective and thoroughly painful, but she was progressing slowly. So I got her settled and prayed for her, promising to check on her regularly throughout the morning.

Fortunately, there were only 13 prenatals to do (instead of the regular 30 +).

By 11:30 am I’d already seen the majority of them, but one late-comer was now saying she too was in labor. As I was assessing her outside, my G2 called frantically for help.

Running, I found her vomiting bile (a good sign of progress) and ready to push. She made big eyes at me indicating it was time. Whoohoo!



A few minutes and several high-pitched sound effects later, out popped baby boy number two!

His mouth opened wide for a breath... then never closed! Wailing and pouting in protest as I dried him off. I couldn’t help but laugh. His lips were huge and gloriously kissable.

I nick-named him Lips on the spot. (His is the mugshot at the top of this post!)

His birth was beautiful and celebrated by all her friends. Together we laughed at his comical mouth and I clicked off a few pictures of his kissable lips!

It was certainly a wonderful day!    

Once the dust settled, I learned that the woman outside WAS in fact in labor and she was ‘mine if I wanted her’.

Smiling at the thought of another baby I told Margaret I’d take her off her hands; then I had lunch. 

Once back at the clinic, I learned that my new labor was a G3 (aka: expecting her third baby) with a sad obstetrical history. Flipping through her chart I saw my hand writing and I instantly remembered her.

Her first baby died during a traumatic three-day birth. She insisted she PUSHED for 3 days! Her second birth was also difficult and left the child paralyzed on his left side. I’m not sure if his paralysis is from birth trauma or not but I suspected so. 

“What if her pelvis is deformed?” I wondered.

I decided to evaluate her myself and called her in.

Sweating and grunting, she moved slowly but silently toward the prenatal bed. Instantly I knew we were in the final stretch and hurried to ready the room.

Within minutes she was desperately trying NOT to push but was obviously READY.



She opted for the kneeling position... and yep, you guessed it. A few minutes later out rolled a precious little boy!

He was a tight squeeze --his shoulders and hips snagged on the way out-- but in the end all went according to plan.                                --Thank You Jesus!

Three beautiful boys in 8 hours!

Once again I’m awed by the strength of these women! They make giving birth look as easy as 1 - 2 - 3!

Culture side note:
When one of the husband’s arrived to meet his son, he asked me if his wife “confessed”. Smirking to myself knowingly, I lied and told him that I asked his wife during the pushing stage if she had slept around.

--“She didn’t confess so the baby must be yours,” I lied. “Plus just look at that head of his,” I said pointing at the funnel-shaped alien's neonate’s head, “It looks just like yours!”

Reassured, he smiled but refused to believe that his boy’s misshaped noggin looked anything like his. Nevertheless we laughed.

Yes. Perhaps one day if the fancy suits me I’ll start drilling my labors with questions of faithfulness while pushing. Then and only then, will I be a real Sudanese midwife!


Ha!

Later on my translator told me that TBAs (Traditional Birth Attendants) in the villages have a ‘code of silence’ when it comes to this childbirth confessional thing.

And apparently some husbands are on to them.

If the husband suspects the TBA is hiding anything from him, he can take her to court and make her swear by oath his wife's faithfulness!

Yep. I can see it now.

“I, Stephanie Williams, so solemnly swear that Mr. Dinka Dude’s wife did not have an affair. She gave birth to his child because during the pushing stages of birth, she did not confess to being unfaithful.”

Where do I sign up?