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!