This week could not have been fuller, or have gone faster. It was intense to say the least. Tuesday I was in admissions. In the morning while the doctor was doing an exam on an 8 week pregnant woman who was bleeding, the sac holding the baby came right out in her hand. It was perfectly intact, and you could see the tiny little baby, perfect for its age, the size of a kidney bean. However, it looked very much like a baby, even at 8 weeks old. It is very rare to see such a thing, so while every one was gawking at it, and taking pictures at the mother's feet, I went up to her head, and stroked her hair as she cried. Even at 8 weeks, she felt the loss. I've seen still born after still born, but I believe I felt the loss of this tiny 8 week fetus more than some of those full term. Why, I'm not sure, but I felt it none the less.

A short time passed, and the slowness of the morning was broken by a panic driven stretcher, carrying a woman with IVs and an airway. She was gasping, and unconscious. The doctor tried for a blood pressure reading on one arm, and asked me to look on the other. I couldn't get a reading, nor could she. We searched for a pulse, nothing on her wrists, we used the Doppler on her left breast, we found one, but it was slow and faint. As I held the oxygen mask up to her face, over the airway, she stopped gasping, while her pulse grew more and more faint till it was simply gone. Some resuscitation was done, but it was no use. She was gone. The defeat that comes over a room when someone dies is indescribable. This girl was two years younger than me, 22 weeks pregnant with her first baby, the baby was gone as well, and had been for a few days. I tried to pray that she would be raised from the dead, but somehow, bewilderment got the best of my faith; I just stood there dumbfounded, and prayed for peace. Her father came in, he began to weep. Through tears he sang out Hindu prayers. He would touch her feet, and turn away as if the sight of her was too much; bury his face in his handkerchief, and continue to weep and sing. Her husband came in and wept, her mother and wept, one man just hung onto the arm of the woman's husband, as if the couldn't stand in the face of reality. As the weeping persisted, I covered her exposed breast, where minutes before we had found a heart beat. We removed the airway and IV line, we smoothed the wrinkles in her sari, and I closed her eyes. For the first time, I looked at her face, unobstructed by the airway. She was beautiful… two years younger than me. This is the second woman I have seen die here in India.

Right as we were leaving for the day a little girl about 10- 11 years old came in with her mother and a police officer. She needed an exam and swabs taken, as they claimed someone had tried to rape her. I stroked her tiny little arm, and prayed for peace.

I spent Wednesday and Friday observing at a private hospital near our hostel. It was so refreshing to see what health care is supposed to be like. Clean, kind, thorough. I was able to watch a delivery, the first one I've cried at. It was beautiful. At our hospital, the woman is by herself, as the labour room is just bed next to bed, next to bed, due to the high volume of patients. It would be chaotic, if any attendants were allowed in. But I feel as if for the last 3 months I have been watching incomplete births. This woman's husband was there, and it was one of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed. It was when the baby gave her first little cry, half way out, and the husband buried his face in his wife's chest, all three of them crying, mother, father and baby. The vulnerability, innocence, excitement and joy of first time parents is amazing. I watched my sixth Cesarean Section as well. It was much more enjoyable than in Egypt, although I am thankful for the opportunity to have seen so many there. This was more like art, where as in Egypt I felt it was more like a massacre. We were blessed to be able to shadow one of the most amazing women I've ever met. She loves what she does, and is simply brilliant. It was wonderful to be able to glean from her, even when her quizzes on Polyhydramnios threw me through a loop. It was a wonderful two days.

On Thursday I was back in the labour room, after a long week and a half. There was a woman in labour who was a G7 P4 A2 L2 D2. Translated it means she was on her 7^th pregnancy. She had had 4 vaginal deliveries, 2 abortions, 2 living children, and 2 children that had died after 3 years. I wanted to cry as I read through her history. I went to her bed, hoping to make this a good experience for her, but I found that I was no help. She hated me. I couldn't monitor her baby, I couldn't take her vitals, she hit me away, and yelled at me. At first I thought, there is no way I can A) deliver this baby B) handle this woman for the next however many hours. But I just stood by her until I worked up enough courage, then began to softly rub her back. She closed her eyes and took a break between contractions. I stayed by her until the woman at the bed across from her looked as if she would deliver. As I was waiting for the other woman to deliver, Hollie called me over again to the "impossible woman" telling me the baby was coming. And sure enough, there was hair. The baby was out in a few minutes, a beautiful little girl, my 18^th delivery. As soon as she was out, it was as if someone switched women on me. The woman who once yelled at me stroked and kissed my hand, "Thanks. Thanks. Thanks," she said in the best English she could. She later told the student nurse, "I was so angry, but they didn't get angry…" It was one of my favorite deliveries, peaceful, calm, and with a beautiful outcome. I named her Halenah Lindsey. Due to poor skin integrity, the woman tore, and as I was suturing her, the power went out. I had to finish a stitch using the light from a cell phone. I usually sweat heaps while suturing, but this little circumstance made it just ridiculous.

There was an incident at the hospital in the middle of the week, where they found an attendant of one of the patients hanging from a tree. The hospital says it was suicide, the family claimed a hospital staff member murdered the woman after she witnessed them trying to swap babies. There is a lot of fear about baby swapping here, as most people desire males. It remains a mystery, I have my thoughts, but mostly I am concerned for the Superintendent of the hospital. There was a protest outside of her office, where people smashed potted plants, and chanted. We stayed towards the back of the hospital till our shift was done, and the commotion died down. It's been a wild week.

So many ups and downs, I have a few more stories, as well, but I'll leave you with this. Thank you for your faithfulness in reading every week. It blesses me to share my life. I love you all so much.