this is the world's largest imax theatre.


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this was the world's most thrilling movie to see.

And now, completely unrelated to Avatar...

This week I spent three days in the labour ward welcoming babies with the students. I stand in awe at the end of this week thinking about the foot in that I have into women’s lives because of the favour G*d has on this school to get us in these doors. After processing with a student on Friday, she told me about her English midwife friend who couldn’t believe what she was learning to do, the skills, etc, and I agreed with her and we talked about how cool it is that when G*d calls us, he equips us. We are living testimonies.

As much as I would like to, I often shy away from graphics or too intense of imagery in relation to the labour ward, those stories are better for one on one conversation. That is, seeing how I don’t know my blogging audience and all. Perhaps I should start a separate blog? Kidding. I know I appreciate the details, but I have learned that my language needs to be accessible to all, especially when talking about things pertaining to birth.

With that said, the following is appropriate for all.

Our image of a woman labouring in a hospital with her separate room, having ice chips served to her hourly, the contractions recorded on the monitor are things of luxury and not actually how most women in the world spend their hours labouring. With that said, it is not at all wrong, but not like any of the deliveries we as birth attendants usually are a part of. The women here in India, as well as the women of every other country that I have birth attended in, labour in community, all sitting on their separate-or sometimes the same, bed. Usually there are about eight women in labour in one room at a time, but on an especially busy day, like it was most days this week, there are 10-14. Every once in a while, there are those quiet women that don’t say a word, and before you know it, baby is coming and it isn’t waiting for nobody. One time this week, a woman delivered into her sari and the rest of us were so engrossed into our work with postnatal moms until we heard a crying baby and realized, “it’s too late”. In these situations, although it hasn’t been the best care for the mom, but you can still slap on some new gloves and welcome the baby in the name of J*sus, sing it happy birthday and ask the mom “larki-larka?”, “babu-papa?”, “bathchi-batcha?” and any other way you can remember to say “boy or girl?”. The mother has to respond with the answer of the correct sex of the baby before you can take it to warm it up. If no one is looking, we can keep the baby on mom’s belly, turn off the fans and let a little bit of bonding happen… Sometimes there are no students around and as baby’s don’t wait for nobody, I get the chance to stand with the mom, encourage her to push, smile at her, ask her what her name is, introduce myself and reunite mum and bub. Although we want all the students to get as many opportunities to be a part of conducting deliveries, sometimes they all are busy and in these situations, I am so happy to take part!

On Friday, there was one mom who had been labouring since six am in the labour room, and once they are in there, they are not allowed to eat (for cases of caesarian sections, etc.) and this mom was crying at us, begging us to let her eat. We tried to advocate for her and ask the madam (OBGYN) if we could give her something or if she could get some tea from her family, but she still said no. The mom was so angry with us, she didn’t want us to listen to the baby’s heart, to let us put a line up for her, nothing. We stayed with her and continued to encourage her. Low and behold, at the end of the day, when everyone else was tied up, baby was coming. I went and stood with her and asked a student nurse if she would like to learn to conduct a delivery. I began with guiding the mom in her pushing and recognized she wasn’t progressing well and asked the madam to come. After about 45 minutes of focused pushing, her baby girl was born. Anjana was a new woman after, she cried and thanked us for all of our help and we told her J*sus helped her and then she insisted on exchanging phone numbers. Hopefully we can visit her. These joyful-ending situations with tough beginnings can seem frustrating. Yet, I think of how Jesus is so persistent in standing with us, even when we push him away-kicking and screaming we deny his help, and in the end, we are so thankful, so thankful that he has been there with us through it all. Granted, women usually can’t be held accountable for how they act during labour, but that doesn’t mean G*d can’t teach me through this stuff.
G*d is right there with us in the labour room.

Thanks for reading guys, I hope the details were palatable.

Your friend,
Bekah