This week has been different than weeks past. I was in the labour room on Monday in which I delivered a beautiful little girl whom I called Lauryn Anne. (It's true, I named a baby after Lauryn Hill and my mom.) She was so beautiful. It was a quiet day and I was able to stay with her in the newborn room for quite some time just holding her and praying for her. As I held her, I felt myself be washed over with this love that was almost unbearable. I felt as if I could not hold her tight enough, as if I could never put her down, I wanted to kiss her little face from that moment till forever. It's funny the connection you feel for the babies you deliver. It's amazing to be the first person to ever touch a tiny baby. To hold something straight from the womb, so fresh, so untouched. It's all I can do some days not to explode with happiness.
Then Wednesday we were told that we could no longer take deliveries, or do anything medical for that matter. We were officially cut off. We were confused, and frustrated, as we have been asked almost every week for our permission letter. We always provide it, and they always let us continue on doing deliveries, but this time was different. They not only said no, but they meant it. We had to cut down the number of people in the delivery room, the number of people in admissions, and we could only observe in both places. So, we adjusted, and continued on. It was a hard day on Wednesday, but it ended up being really good for me. I realized that even if we got kicked out of the hospital, (worst case scenario) we'd get another opportunity somewhere that would be just as amazing. I thought about all of the things through out my life that have been the "bad", and watched how God made them into "beautiful". My family for example. We are broken, and were for many years. Then a couple years back I realized, we've been made whole. Our ashes have been made beautiful. I love my step mom and my brothers. I love my step dad and brother. I love that we have formed new families out of the broken pieces of our first one. It's so amazing how God can take brokenness and make it beautiful. He makes life spring up from ruins. On Wednesday I realized that no matter what happens, we will still be standing; joyful, triumphant, victorious. We are midwives. Even if I didn't conduct another delivery for the rest of the time, I will still be learning how to "be with women", which is exactly was a midwife is. During this time we are learning about humility, servanthood, perseverance, hope, faithfulness, and steadfastness. Perhaps those things are more important than rubbing up a contraction, or delivering a placenta.
Thursday I was in admissions all day. I was able to be with an eclampic woman as she fitted. (Which is a lot like a seizure, and quite unnerving.) I held her as her body seized and convulsed, and as the doctor shoved needle after needle in her bum injecting medicine into her muscles to control the fits. It was a powerful and challenging time "being with woman". Despite the order to only observe I got to insert three cannulas (which I did successfully, thank God) and give an Intramuscular injection. It was a nice day working with the doctors being told to do this and do that. I love when we can work together as a team, as a family.
Friday I went to follow up on the woman who was fitting in the eclampsia ward. She had delivered the night before and it had been an IUD. Which you always hate to see on a woman's case sheet as it stands for "Intrauterine Death". I was broken for her as she had been pregnant twice, and both had been aborted. I often don't understand the hardships these woman face here. All I can do is pray.
Pray for us. Pray that we are able to continue conducting deliveries, pray that we have favor in this hospital. I'm so thankful for this experience, no matter what it ends up looking like.