Hello Everyone…
There are only two and a half weeks left here in Cameroon until we will travel to Sudan. My heart is growing more and more for the city of Bamenda. I feel comfortable with the people, working with the midwives, shopping in the market and soon we will leave for a new country. There is something so melancholy about leaving a culture and I am feeling like; I just haven’t had enough time here. It makes me believe that in the new creation we will be able to constantly enjoy one another’s cultures, we are made for something eternal.
I have made a new friend named Constance. About two weeks ago while we are the hospital, one of our doctor friends, a gynaecologist, told us that he was performing a c/s. We read up on the indications and found out this 22-week pregnant woman was eclamptic. I don’t know how many of us are familiar with this term, so let’s have a brief tutorial. Pre-eclampsia is a conditon that pertains only to pregnancy. The symptoms are high blood pressure, protein in the urine, swelling-especially pertaining to the feet/face/abdomen. This is why it is essential for women to receive regular antenatal care, so things like eclampsia can be recognized. Pre-eclampsia transitions to eclampsia at the point where the blood pressure raises even higher, there is more protein in the urine and fitting occurs. By “fitting”, I mean “convulsions”. (I don’t know if we use “fitting” as a medical term in the US, the first time I heard it, I envisioned Claire throwing a tantrum on our hardwood floor.) The thing about eclampsia is, at this point, you can’t just take medicine for it to go away, you can only recognize it and then treat it. The only way to treat it is for the baby to be delivered. So, now that we are all on the same page…
We prepped for theatre and entered to see Constance ready for her c/s. Once the baby was extracted, the staff were shocked that baby was alive. They had not been able to find a fetal heart and therefore assumed the baby was dead. We quickly rushed to the nursery and resuscitated the baby for an hour. Eventually, the baby was breathing normally and her heart was beating regularly. She was only 22-25 weeks old though, and the odds were against her. We pra*yed for a miracle and returned the next day to find that she had died a couple hours after we had left. I met Constance for the first time that day but with sky-high blood pressure and a recent operation, she wasn’t so responsive. These past couple weeks I have been able to hear her story.
Constance is a soldier. She has two jewels glued to her teeth, I don’t know what for, but she makes them look nice. She smiles as bright as the sun and loves to talk about her country and ask you questions about yours. She has one daughter named Roseline and wants so badly to have a sibling for her. Her second pregnancy was an ectopic pregnancy (to avoid another tutorial, maybe you can google that one) and this was the third pregnancy. She had never been to antenatal care and did not understand why she needed to. Her blood pressure slowly has been going down these past couple weeks since the delivery, but since then, we have been able to share with her about our lives. No one told her about her baby, so we got to tell her how much she weighed, that is was a girl and when she died. We were able to share that she is no longer suffering and that we believe she will get to meet her one day. Constance could answer any question you have about Je*sus dying for her, but I don’t know if she knows him yet. I feel blessed to know this woman of great strength and burdened for her to know the living and breathing, ever-present G*od. She shares that her heart is hurting but she knows that she must get over it. In the places where culture interferes, it can sometimes be difficult to explain and even relate how G*od wants to heal these hurting places, and that grieving is so much a part of it. It just isn’t culturally acceptable to speak of your feelings and cry.
Constance will be discharged on Monday and we are hoping to visit her village next week. Even in these times of pain, in times when the outcome isn’t the will of G*od, he can bring redemption, bring healing. This is my cry for her. I guess I am just learning how strong these woman are, when they lose a child, they are sad, but they shout for joy…even when I fully believe there is a place for grieving, they know joy and no one can deny it. I can’t ever deny that G*od will teach us through other people and their trials, when we allow our judgements or our “group” we are missing whole groups of people, we miss these small opportunities that turn into great lessons. I cannot deny that G*od is ever present in each of our lives. Oh how much I have to learn.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Sunday, February 22, 2009
a brief one.
Last Wednesday we shared as a team about the case studies we had been working on. Mine personally was about large blood loss after delivery of the baby, and following the presentation I was asked about what I had learned. I felt like I really took a hold of the importance of education, that in my particular case, this woman would have bled to death had she not returned for us to withdraw the remaining blood clots.
The next day I was in antenatal care and was given the chance to do the teaching. I felt immediately prompted to teach about the stage of labour when the placenta is delivered even though this is an uncommon topic to be taught to the pregnant mums. I shared with the women the steps that would happen after they delivered their babies, we talked about the shots they would receive, the procedures that would occur, how much blood could possibly be lost. That day as I checked each women, they were inquisitive, asking questions about their antenatal cards, what each category meant, etc. They were taking hold of the education they had been given and felt like there was space to ask and receive answers.
The following Monday, one of the women delivered her baby and lost too much blood. She knew exactly what to do and she was prepared. When I found this out, I had such peace of mind. I felt such gratitude to G*od that before she experienced what could have been a scary situation, she was prepared by knowing how much blood was too much and she could expect what needed to happen. When I followed up with her case, she was so happy and grateful for the safe delivery of her baby girl. I believe that education is the beginning of empowering women and transforming nations and a piece of that occurred on this day of caring for pregnant mums.
The next day I was in antenatal care and was given the chance to do the teaching. I felt immediately prompted to teach about the stage of labour when the placenta is delivered even though this is an uncommon topic to be taught to the pregnant mums. I shared with the women the steps that would happen after they delivered their babies, we talked about the shots they would receive, the procedures that would occur, how much blood could possibly be lost. That day as I checked each women, they were inquisitive, asking questions about their antenatal cards, what each category meant, etc. They were taking hold of the education they had been given and felt like there was space to ask and receive answers.
The following Monday, one of the women delivered her baby and lost too much blood. She knew exactly what to do and she was prepared. When I found this out, I had such peace of mind. I felt such gratitude to G*od that before she experienced what could have been a scary situation, she was prepared by knowing how much blood was too much and she could expect what needed to happen. When I followed up with her case, she was so happy and grateful for the safe delivery of her baby girl. I believe that education is the beginning of empowering women and transforming nations and a piece of that occurred on this day of caring for pregnant mums.
Monday, February 16, 2009
someone has a case of the mondays.
Not a spare moment was there this weekend to write or head to the internet. So here I am on the evening of my father’s birthday, oceans away from him, awaiting the fancy surprise Valentine’s meal that Sarah is preparing for our team. We decided that we would celebrate the holiday weekend by serving the team in some fashion. After our dinner, I will unveil a little video/slideshow that I have been working on for them. This weekend our second case study was due and I was on “afternoon” chopping, which lasted until the evening on Saturday. I am wondering where the weekend went.
This morning at church I had the chance to share a testimony with the people. It is customary to have a song, testimony and introductions prepared when you visit a church, unless you can successfully wing it ten times out of ten. It was my turn today. So after we embarrassed ourselves with a rendition of “Cannot Hide My Love” (which I laughed the whole way through because it was too low for anyone to sing along to and a man from the church thought it was a good idea to play along with the keyboard which sounded horrible). With little time to recover, I giggled my way up to the microphone to share a story from the week.
On Friday in the labour room, a woman walked in with her belongings and sat down at the desk with the midwives. I peered in briefly and thought she must be visiting the midwives and went back to helping Melisa monitor her labouring mom. The next thing I know, she is being examined in the first stage room. I walked in, confused, and decided in my head that she wasn’t dilated, she was an inexperienced primi who was having Braxton Hicks contractions because there is no way a labouring woman could be so calm, cool and collected. The midwife finished and I asked her findings, 5 cm dilated. Absolutely astonished by this peppy third time mother, I read up on her antenatal care and introduced myself to her. She insisted on wearing the outfit she had on, fetching her own cannula and drugs and sitting up. There was nothing the midwives could really say to a woman completely in her right mind, as relaxed as someone who was on their lunch break. I began to monitor her and was able to fully engage in conversation. She shared about herself, past pregnancies and that she used to be a missionary but had to stop because her husband didn’t like it. I asked her more about her husband and she said that he wasn’t living with her at the time, that he had left her and her two children and that she had no family that lived close by. We spent some time in pra*yer for this sitation and then we timed her contractions (four contraction 20-40 seconds long for those of you moms who are completely disgusted by her composure at this point). Shortly after, Melisa’s mom pushed out her baby and I left my mom. About a half hour later, I returned to continue monitoring. She was looking more distressed and having four, 60 second contractions which clued me in that she was progressing quickly. She had told me previously that the moment her waters broke, she had her babies. After the monitoring of contractions, she became a bit on edge and said that something was coming out. I asked Paula to get a birth kit and for a student nurse to grab a nappy. Within five minutes, her baby was out. I lifted the baby up for mom to see and as we do, said, “What do you have mommy?” She started crying and said “a girl”. She cried out for Go*d to have mercy and said “My husband will not accept this”. I handed the lovely, screaming girl to Melisa and turned back to the mom. She shared that her husband said he would return to her if she had a boy, otherwise she was on her own. She sobbed while I delivered the placenta and we cleaned her up. We spent some time praying with her, asking for wisdom. Later we were able to break off rejection and pray for the baby to be a unifying factor in the family.
Usually, at the earliest, a mom will leave 1 ½ hours after they deliver from the maternity ward. Within 20 minutes of delivering, she was breast feeding, within 30 minutes, she had showered and paid her fees. We asked her if anyone was coming to help her, since usually there are at least four people per labouring mom in the waiting area, she said that her friend was coming. We offered to make up a bed for her in postnatal and she said she would come along, so the three of us, plus baby wandered down to postnatal and she chose a bed. I looked at all the moms who were laying in pajamas relaxing or sleeping or reclining while conversing, as they should be, and here is this lovely abnormal woman, prancing in, comparing the quality of the beds and has delivered an hour ago.
The day closed by her asking us to call her husband so that he could come and pay the remaining bills and him refusing when he found out it was a girl. Anyway, the story doesn't have a happy ending yet. I guess I just felt like sometimes Je*sus can be disguised as anyone. She was fully capable and still needing a lot of help. G*od really takes seriously the call to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsy. The women here have a great sense of community, when they saw the white men were helping her make her bed and she had no one with her, they gave her some food and welcomed her and her baby. It all seems so unfair. She doesn't deserve to suffer this burden. We left her around 5:30 and have continued to pr*ay for her while the thought of sheep and goats and suffering continue to dance through my head.
Anyway, now it is Monday afternoon and I am able to update you! If I could ask you to pr*ay for Robyn, she is sick with salmonella paratyphoid. Anna, she has been sick for the past month and is still not getting her energy back. Overall, for the team we have been fighting for more deliveries and not seeing an increase, if you join us in prayer for this, so we learn the necessary skills to becoming a G*od fearing midwife. Thank you all. Blessings to you!
This morning at church I had the chance to share a testimony with the people. It is customary to have a song, testimony and introductions prepared when you visit a church, unless you can successfully wing it ten times out of ten. It was my turn today. So after we embarrassed ourselves with a rendition of “Cannot Hide My Love” (which I laughed the whole way through because it was too low for anyone to sing along to and a man from the church thought it was a good idea to play along with the keyboard which sounded horrible). With little time to recover, I giggled my way up to the microphone to share a story from the week.
On Friday in the labour room, a woman walked in with her belongings and sat down at the desk with the midwives. I peered in briefly and thought she must be visiting the midwives and went back to helping Melisa monitor her labouring mom. The next thing I know, she is being examined in the first stage room. I walked in, confused, and decided in my head that she wasn’t dilated, she was an inexperienced primi who was having Braxton Hicks contractions because there is no way a labouring woman could be so calm, cool and collected. The midwife finished and I asked her findings, 5 cm dilated. Absolutely astonished by this peppy third time mother, I read up on her antenatal care and introduced myself to her. She insisted on wearing the outfit she had on, fetching her own cannula and drugs and sitting up. There was nothing the midwives could really say to a woman completely in her right mind, as relaxed as someone who was on their lunch break. I began to monitor her and was able to fully engage in conversation. She shared about herself, past pregnancies and that she used to be a missionary but had to stop because her husband didn’t like it. I asked her more about her husband and she said that he wasn’t living with her at the time, that he had left her and her two children and that she had no family that lived close by. We spent some time in pra*yer for this sitation and then we timed her contractions (four contraction 20-40 seconds long for those of you moms who are completely disgusted by her composure at this point). Shortly after, Melisa’s mom pushed out her baby and I left my mom. About a half hour later, I returned to continue monitoring. She was looking more distressed and having four, 60 second contractions which clued me in that she was progressing quickly. She had told me previously that the moment her waters broke, she had her babies. After the monitoring of contractions, she became a bit on edge and said that something was coming out. I asked Paula to get a birth kit and for a student nurse to grab a nappy. Within five minutes, her baby was out. I lifted the baby up for mom to see and as we do, said, “What do you have mommy?” She started crying and said “a girl”. She cried out for Go*d to have mercy and said “My husband will not accept this”. I handed the lovely, screaming girl to Melisa and turned back to the mom. She shared that her husband said he would return to her if she had a boy, otherwise she was on her own. She sobbed while I delivered the placenta and we cleaned her up. We spent some time praying with her, asking for wisdom. Later we were able to break off rejection and pray for the baby to be a unifying factor in the family.
Usually, at the earliest, a mom will leave 1 ½ hours after they deliver from the maternity ward. Within 20 minutes of delivering, she was breast feeding, within 30 minutes, she had showered and paid her fees. We asked her if anyone was coming to help her, since usually there are at least four people per labouring mom in the waiting area, she said that her friend was coming. We offered to make up a bed for her in postnatal and she said she would come along, so the three of us, plus baby wandered down to postnatal and she chose a bed. I looked at all the moms who were laying in pajamas relaxing or sleeping or reclining while conversing, as they should be, and here is this lovely abnormal woman, prancing in, comparing the quality of the beds and has delivered an hour ago.
The day closed by her asking us to call her husband so that he could come and pay the remaining bills and him refusing when he found out it was a girl. Anyway, the story doesn't have a happy ending yet. I guess I just felt like sometimes Je*sus can be disguised as anyone. She was fully capable and still needing a lot of help. G*od really takes seriously the call to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsy. The women here have a great sense of community, when they saw the white men were helping her make her bed and she had no one with her, they gave her some food and welcomed her and her baby. It all seems so unfair. She doesn't deserve to suffer this burden. We left her around 5:30 and have continued to pr*ay for her while the thought of sheep and goats and suffering continue to dance through my head.
Anyway, now it is Monday afternoon and I am able to update you! If I could ask you to pr*ay for Robyn, she is sick with salmonella paratyphoid. Anna, she has been sick for the past month and is still not getting her energy back. Overall, for the team we have been fighting for more deliveries and not seeing an increase, if you join us in prayer for this, so we learn the necessary skills to becoming a G*od fearing midwife. Thank you all. Blessings to you!
Saturday, February 07, 2009
newsletter/exciting news :)
I feel settled here in Cameroon. There are those daily lulls where I wonder what I should be doing like you have when you are at home, there are the days when I come home beat from the hospital and think I would like to have a little holiday and some days I think, what could be better than this?
Each Friday, depending on if it is your turn, you are allowed the chance to visit the moms that you have delivered. Yesterday was my first home visit day. Sarah and I began by visiting a woman who had her baby at four months and the baby girl lived for 1 ½ hours. She had looked so sickly the first two times that we saw her due to malaria, but yesterday she had a glow of joy and health. She was talking with us and served us white beans and plantains. We parted after a short visit and encouraged her to come and visit us soon.
Later we headed to Mercy’s house, the mother of five who delivered a brow presentation (impossible according to the books) baby with the cord twice around the neck. She was so happy the see us and quickly handed me Ransem, the baby boy when we sat down. I think they had intended for us to stay all night long. When we first arrived Mercy came out briefly but then showered herself and came and got Ransem and bathed him, not exactly what my culture would do when guests arrive. They then served us a meal of bitter leaf greens (Jama Jama), fried fish and fufu corn (consistency of cooling cream of wheat, but made from corn) while her husband went to purchase drinks. He arrived back with 24 bottled drinks and said that we would be full by the time we left. Already feeling full, I laughed and then realized, they might be planning on us staying a little longer than we were. This also confirmed that I still have so much to learn about etiquette. Later, Mercy lead us down to their water source and also showed us to their farm/garden. The community has plots of land that they farm and then sell the vegetables, herbs and goods in the market. She was disappointed when we told that we needed to leave but at the possibility of us coming again she seemed comforted. Sarah and I rode home through the dusty roads on a motorbike in our African outfits and talked about how amazing the day had been.
Our time in Cameroon so far has been difficult and exciting. Culturally, I am seeing there is so much more to learn. I am blessed by the sense of community, it is the only option here; community antenatal care, delivering in a room of two other labouring women, 20 women in the same postnatal room, everyone caring for another, learning from one another. It brings me back to the unity that God intends for us.
This week was an especially difficult one, we found out that Connie, one of my roommates/classmates/hospital mates for the past seven months had decided to go home. She felt God was leading her in a different direction and that her new ministry was to bring the church into her Norwegian home. We said farewell with much pain yesterday morning.
Thank you all for you constant support and encouragement that you give. As you have supported me greatly, I want to share with you my commitment to come back to Perth in July to staff the Birth Attendant School for two years. I see G*od’s great calling for justice through our school and want to continue being a part of training and raising up G*od-fearing midwives to transform the nations. I will keep sharing more as the updates continue.
Bless you!
G*od is moving mightily through our team and I am blessed to be a part.
Each Friday, depending on if it is your turn, you are allowed the chance to visit the moms that you have delivered. Yesterday was my first home visit day. Sarah and I began by visiting a woman who had her baby at four months and the baby girl lived for 1 ½ hours. She had looked so sickly the first two times that we saw her due to malaria, but yesterday she had a glow of joy and health. She was talking with us and served us white beans and plantains. We parted after a short visit and encouraged her to come and visit us soon.
Later we headed to Mercy’s house, the mother of five who delivered a brow presentation (impossible according to the books) baby with the cord twice around the neck. She was so happy the see us and quickly handed me Ransem, the baby boy when we sat down. I think they had intended for us to stay all night long. When we first arrived Mercy came out briefly but then showered herself and came and got Ransem and bathed him, not exactly what my culture would do when guests arrive. They then served us a meal of bitter leaf greens (Jama Jama), fried fish and fufu corn (consistency of cooling cream of wheat, but made from corn) while her husband went to purchase drinks. He arrived back with 24 bottled drinks and said that we would be full by the time we left. Already feeling full, I laughed and then realized, they might be planning on us staying a little longer than we were. This also confirmed that I still have so much to learn about etiquette. Later, Mercy lead us down to their water source and also showed us to their farm/garden. The community has plots of land that they farm and then sell the vegetables, herbs and goods in the market. She was disappointed when we told that we needed to leave but at the possibility of us coming again she seemed comforted. Sarah and I rode home through the dusty roads on a motorbike in our African outfits and talked about how amazing the day had been.
Our time in Cameroon so far has been difficult and exciting. Culturally, I am seeing there is so much more to learn. I am blessed by the sense of community, it is the only option here; community antenatal care, delivering in a room of two other labouring women, 20 women in the same postnatal room, everyone caring for another, learning from one another. It brings me back to the unity that God intends for us.
This week was an especially difficult one, we found out that Connie, one of my roommates/classmates/hospital mates for the past seven months had decided to go home. She felt God was leading her in a different direction and that her new ministry was to bring the church into her Norwegian home. We said farewell with much pain yesterday morning.
Thank you all for you constant support and encouragement that you give. As you have supported me greatly, I want to share with you my commitment to come back to Perth in July to staff the Birth Attendant School for two years. I see G*od’s great calling for justice through our school and want to continue being a part of training and raising up G*od-fearing midwives to transform the nations. I will keep sharing more as the updates continue.
Bless you!
G*od is moving mightily through our team and I am blessed to be a part.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
a short day, but still 24 hours.
I wasn't able to update on Saturday but due to slow time at the hospital today was able to steal away for a some internet time.
Yesterday morning I received a phone call from my family. Oh, it was wonderful. Today the midwives asked me, "Have you heard from mommy and daddy?" Then I told them how I cried because I was so happy when the phone was for me. They don't really encouraging crying here, but understood, well maybe.
It was also yesterday that the death of the owl was announced. Later that day I was taking the trash to the burn pile and he was face down in rubbish. Wa wa waaaa. I think he was sick.
After our Bi*ble study on Sunday, Hollie, our leader and Connie shared that Connie will not be going to Sudan with us when we leave in March. I hardly have processed this as I share it with you. It is disappointing most of all and I don't really understand it. With time and Go*d's help, I expect to be more at rest with the idea than I am now. I can't imagine a day without one of the girls.
Anyway...bless you friends. I miss you guys. Cameroon is slowly getting colder in the mornings and warmer in the afternoon. Weird.
Yesterday morning I received a phone call from my family. Oh, it was wonderful. Today the midwives asked me, "Have you heard from mommy and daddy?" Then I told them how I cried because I was so happy when the phone was for me. They don't really encouraging crying here, but understood, well maybe.
It was also yesterday that the death of the owl was announced. Later that day I was taking the trash to the burn pile and he was face down in rubbish. Wa wa waaaa. I think he was sick.
After our Bi*ble study on Sunday, Hollie, our leader and Connie shared that Connie will not be going to Sudan with us when we leave in March. I hardly have processed this as I share it with you. It is disappointing most of all and I don't really understand it. With time and Go*d's help, I expect to be more at rest with the idea than I am now. I can't imagine a day without one of the girls.
Anyway...bless you friends. I miss you guys. Cameroon is slowly getting colder in the mornings and warmer in the afternoon. Weird.
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