First birth!
To make a long story short, we enjoyed our first birth here at the Missionary Ventures International clinic in Sinazongwe, Zambia on the 1st of June. (Scroll down for pictures) Here are the details if you are interested…
We were having a going away lunch for Michelle on the 1st of June, at the base with some of the South Africans we know who have been friends of the family for years. It was about 2:30 when Susan heard my phone going off in the house and went to answer it. She came back with a funny look on her face. She told me one of my midwives-in-training, Sandra, had called and there was a client in labor at her house, did I want her to bring her over to the clinic? I paused in shock for a second and asked, “Do we want her to come? Should she come? Yes? Yes. I mean, yes, she should come!” Susan agreed so we asked Sandra to bring her over.
It took about 35 minutes for them to walk what is normally a 20 minute walk. We were nervous. Everything was all set up and we had found the chart. Dales had some for two prenatals, both of which were normal, except for slight anemia. I was glad to find that there were no warning signs at the start as this would be my first labor in two years and seven months, not to mention my first birth absolutely on my own without anyone more experienced to back me up.
Susan and I talked through a few preparation items—it was Dales’ 8th pregnancy which could mean some special complications on its own and we wanted to be prepared for the worst while hoping for the best.
Dales and Sandra finally arrived. Sandra was completely pale and said she had been so nervous and prayed a lot as they walked, hoping that Dales would not deliver. I hadn’t really thought about it, but it was Sandra’s first birth ever and I had just assumed she would have said they couldn’t walk if she was really that nervous! In the end, Dales was only 3cm.
It didn’t take us long to notice that Dales had not brought a thing with her. In most countries outside the Western world there is a list of obligatory things that must be brought to a hospital or clinic. You need: a person to take care of you (because there are not enough nurses), food, gloves, cord clamps, stuff for the baby, stuff for you, medications the medical staff might need to use on you, etc. In fact, many of the clinics require even the baby blanket and clothes to be all new and can refuse to deliver your baby if they are not. We had never set up any requirements, but had assumed that some of these things would be brought along.
As we talked with her, Dales revealed that her husband has abandoned her and their children, as well as his other two wives and their children. Dales would be taking home a new baby into a home situation where she was the only provider and where this child might be seen as the latest trial. As I prayed with Dales and for Dales this made me think of so many patients we have that bear a name or have named a child something equivalent to a curse. Karin and I had talked a few times about how people use English words as names without always knowing the meaning, but we had a teen mother who had named her child ‘Malice’ because the father hadn’t owned up to his role. And another whose child was called ‘Killer.’ I really felt that God was calling me to help Dales to remember who He was and not how difficult her situation was.
The hours drug on and Sandra, Susan, Michelle, and I sat in the med room reading textbooks while Dales rested. She had been in labor since 5 am, but everything was going normally and it seemed she just needed a breather. Susan took a break and had a quick nap. We hired our neighbor’s wife to make food for Sandra and Dales to eat and we had some dinner as well. At 8pm Dales was still 3cm, but there was some progress noted and the baby was fine. At 10pm Sus switched with me and I crawled into bed, anticipating a long night. I tried to persuade Sandra to rest in the corner, but she was too excited. Michelle also went to rest.
Just past 11pm I got a call. Susan was practically yelling into the phone, “Baby coming!” It was a good thing I had much experience with sleeping on a top bunk while on call for births, because I was able to carefully get myself down and run into the clinic just after the baby’s head came out. Sandra was in a support hold from behind, Dales was in a beautiful squat, and Susan was moving from in front of the patient as I entered.
I wasn’t sure the exact seconds on ‘head out,’ so I checked if there was a cord around the neck, but everything was fine. In a few seconds the new life slithered out and I held the baby up so Dales could identify him. 11:07pm. She wasn’t in a position to hold him just yet, so she acknowledged that he was a boy and Susan toweled him off before giving him to her.
It was one of the cleanest births I have ever attended. We had prepared in case Dales’ hemorrhaged, but she didn’t. Dales pushed once for the placenta and it came, but trailed membranes for a long time. Then it was over. My first Zambian birth.
Once Dales and her son were settled back in bed, we looked over a very unhealthy, malnourished placenta. It looked intact, but with the long membranes it was hard to tell if there might be a small piece missing. It was so wonderful to be able to teach and explain everything I knew as we went along. Sandra just soaked it up.
Dales’ body normalized quickly after the birth and, after 45 minutes, I took her to wash up while Susan and Michelle washed and examined the perfectly normal baby boy.
Susan drove Sandra home because the water from the lake has risen so high that the hippos (known for being one of the most deadly animals in Africa) would walk onto the road. Dales stayed the night with her baby. In the morning we put together some clothes for her and her son. I sat with her a while and conversed through a translator. I told her how we had prepared, in case there were any problems, but how God had intervened and not allowed any to come. I encouraged her to think about how the Lord has been gracious to her in this time and to name her child something that will be a reminder. That speaking his name will be like speaking a blessing over his life each day instead of speaking a curse. Dales agreed that she wanted to bless her child.
Karin noted later that it was interesting. After having seven unattended (or attended by untrained birth attendants) home births, Dales had walked all the way to our clinic to find help for her eighth delivery. Perhaps it was because she was feeling alone or because she enjoyed our care in prenatals. But, whatever the reason, I believe that God sent her. Not so much for me, but for herself and for that little boy. God has a plan for his life and I pray that the name Dales gives him will reflect the blessings that God has already been faithful with and will continue in that child’s life.
Monday morning Susan and I ran clinic as normal, but it seemed everyone already knew we had our first birth the night before. The community was so excited for us and thankful to us for a healthy baby. It was an interesting response. Glory to God, but also thankful that we were here and glad that we were helping. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone say, “Thank you.”
We were having a going away lunch for Michelle on the 1st of June, at the base with some of the South Africans we know who have been friends of the family for years. It was about 2:30 when Susan heard my phone going off in the house and went to answer it. She came back with a funny look on her face. She told me one of my midwives-in-training, Sandra, had called and there was a client in labor at her house, did I want her to bring her over to the clinic? I paused in shock for a second and asked, “Do we want her to come? Should she come? Yes? Yes. I mean, yes, she should come!” Susan agreed so we asked Sandra to bring her over.
It took about 35 minutes for them to walk what is normally a 20 minute walk. We were nervous. Everything was all set up and we had found the chart. Dales had some for two prenatals, both of which were normal, except for slight anemia. I was glad to find that there were no warning signs at the start as this would be my first labor in two years and seven months, not to mention my first birth absolutely on my own without anyone more experienced to back me up.
Susan and I talked through a few preparation items—it was Dales’ 8th pregnancy which could mean some special complications on its own and we wanted to be prepared for the worst while hoping for the best.
Dales and Sandra finally arrived. Sandra was completely pale and said she had been so nervous and prayed a lot as they walked, hoping that Dales would not deliver. I hadn’t really thought about it, but it was Sandra’s first birth ever and I had just assumed she would have said they couldn’t walk if she was really that nervous! In the end, Dales was only 3cm.
It didn’t take us long to notice that Dales had not brought a thing with her. In most countries outside the Western world there is a list of obligatory things that must be brought to a hospital or clinic. You need: a person to take care of you (because there are not enough nurses), food, gloves, cord clamps, stuff for the baby, stuff for you, medications the medical staff might need to use on you, etc. In fact, many of the clinics require even the baby blanket and clothes to be all new and can refuse to deliver your baby if they are not. We had never set up any requirements, but had assumed that some of these things would be brought along.
As we talked with her, Dales revealed that her husband has abandoned her and their children, as well as his other two wives and their children. Dales would be taking home a new baby into a home situation where she was the only provider and where this child might be seen as the latest trial. As I prayed with Dales and for Dales this made me think of so many patients we have that bear a name or have named a child something equivalent to a curse. Karin and I had talked a few times about how people use English words as names without always knowing the meaning, but we had a teen mother who had named her child ‘Malice’ because the father hadn’t owned up to his role. And another whose child was called ‘Killer.’ I really felt that God was calling me to help Dales to remember who He was and not how difficult her situation was.
The hours drug on and Sandra, Susan, Michelle, and I sat in the med room reading textbooks while Dales rested. She had been in labor since 5 am, but everything was going normally and it seemed she just needed a breather. Susan took a break and had a quick nap. We hired our neighbor’s wife to make food for Sandra and Dales to eat and we had some dinner as well. At 8pm Dales was still 3cm, but there was some progress noted and the baby was fine. At 10pm Sus switched with me and I crawled into bed, anticipating a long night. I tried to persuade Sandra to rest in the corner, but she was too excited. Michelle also went to rest.
Just past 11pm I got a call. Susan was practically yelling into the phone, “Baby coming!” It was a good thing I had much experience with sleeping on a top bunk while on call for births, because I was able to carefully get myself down and run into the clinic just after the baby’s head came out. Sandra was in a support hold from behind, Dales was in a beautiful squat, and Susan was moving from in front of the patient as I entered.
I wasn’t sure the exact seconds on ‘head out,’ so I checked if there was a cord around the neck, but everything was fine. In a few seconds the new life slithered out and I held the baby up so Dales could identify him. 11:07pm. She wasn’t in a position to hold him just yet, so she acknowledged that he was a boy and Susan toweled him off before giving him to her.
It was one of the cleanest births I have ever attended. We had prepared in case Dales’ hemorrhaged, but she didn’t. Dales pushed once for the placenta and it came, but trailed membranes for a long time. Then it was over. My first Zambian birth.
Once Dales and her son were settled back in bed, we looked over a very unhealthy, malnourished placenta. It looked intact, but with the long membranes it was hard to tell if there might be a small piece missing. It was so wonderful to be able to teach and explain everything I knew as we went along. Sandra just soaked it up.
Dales’ body normalized quickly after the birth and, after 45 minutes, I took her to wash up while Susan and Michelle washed and examined the perfectly normal baby boy.
Susan drove Sandra home because the water from the lake has risen so high that the hippos (known for being one of the most deadly animals in Africa) would walk onto the road. Dales stayed the night with her baby. In the morning we put together some clothes for her and her son. I sat with her a while and conversed through a translator. I told her how we had prepared, in case there were any problems, but how God had intervened and not allowed any to come. I encouraged her to think about how the Lord has been gracious to her in this time and to name her child something that will be a reminder. That speaking his name will be like speaking a blessing over his life each day instead of speaking a curse. Dales agreed that she wanted to bless her child.
Karin noted later that it was interesting. After having seven unattended (or attended by untrained birth attendants) home births, Dales had walked all the way to our clinic to find help for her eighth delivery. Perhaps it was because she was feeling alone or because she enjoyed our care in prenatals. But, whatever the reason, I believe that God sent her. Not so much for me, but for herself and for that little boy. God has a plan for his life and I pray that the name Dales gives him will reflect the blessings that God has already been faithful with and will continue in that child’s life.
Monday morning Susan and I ran clinic as normal, but it seemed everyone already knew we had our first birth the night before. The community was so excited for us and thankful to us for a healthy baby. It was an interesting response. Glory to God, but also thankful that we were here and glad that we were helping. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone say, “Thank you.”
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