To be honest, I cannot really recall Monday or Tuesday, but Wednesday I was in the labour room. I wasn’t supposed to be in the labour room, I was supposed to be going to the slum to do an antenatal clinic. But the schedule changed. So I packed my hospital jacket, my “tools”, and got ready to deliver some babies. We got to the labour room, and it seemed to be filled with complicated cases. There seemed to be an abundance of “madams” (duty doctors), when usually there is only one or two. There were forceps deliveries, women being sent for cesarean sections, and IUD’s. I began to monitor a woman and after looking at her chart I discovered her baby was an “anomaly” baby. The scan showed that the baby had a cyst from his chest to his waist. This worried me, and I questioned if I should conduct this delivery, but she wouldn’t be delivering for a while, and there was no harm in monitoring her. Lunch came and went, and she still had not delivered. She lay there very quietly. The labour room had become a bit busier, and I was able to deliver the baby of a very malnourished woman who had had two other babies, and had lost them both; the first after one month, the second after three days. He was a small little boy, called Jeffery John. He wasn’t doing well, so they transferred him to the neonatal intensive care unit. I questioned if he had some sort of developmental disability, he looked a bit as if he had Down syndrome. He is a gift, and I have deep hope for his life. I had hardly finished taking the vital signs of the woman I had just delivered when Hollie called at me that my “anomaly” mother was delivering. I quickly got new gloves on and ran to her side. Sure enough the head was on its way. It’s at this point I find myself at a loss. How much do I say, how much do I share? As I continued to deliver the baby, I felt as if something was terribly wrong. I yelled at Hollie to get a “madam”. The madam came. Something was terribly wrong, and I proceeded to watch the most horrific scene I’ve ever seen. As the situation escalated, higher ranking doctor after higher ranking doctor came in to try to solve the problem To spare us both, I will not write what happened, but it was something most midwives will never see in their entire career. One of my classmates later described it as her worst nightmare. As I stood there, where I usually stand to receive a screaming little one, I couldn’t even fathom what I was seeing. There was nothing I could do anymore, so I focused on the mother. I just looked into those beautiful brown eyes begging her to focus on me, avoiding what was happening at her feet. Never in my life have I ever felt so connected to another human being. It was as if we knew each other. As if language and culture no longer existed. I held her head as she pushed, I held her gaze as she wept, I held her belly as I prayed desperately for the rest of the baby to be born. Eventually, after much work, the rest of the baby was born. I am not sure how long it had been, as time seemed to stand still. The baby quite obviously died in the process of this delivery.

I held the woman in my arms for a long while, trying to process what I just saw, trying to process what she was going through, and trying to understand how this happened. To be honest, I went away from the situation in shock. It was about 15 minutes later that another woman began to deliver. I stood there by her side. As my hands went through the motions of this delivery my mind was stuck on what has happened just moments before. I was terrified as I delivered the head, then the body, but the relief that overcame me when she let out a healthy little cry was overwhelming. My God is a God of redemption and restoration; a God of mercy and grace. I named her Mercy Joy Grace, for she was all of those to me. I didn’t cry until I got home. Then when Michaela asked me how my day was I sat on her bed and began to weep. She looked as shocked as I was as I explained the story, and just began to pray for me. Community is one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given. I don’t ever want to live without it.

Thursday I spent the morning in prayer; a day of “recovery”.

Friday- “Good Friday”. It seems as if the weeks have gotten progressively harder in this past month. But as they grow harder, and more painful, I seem to fall more desperately in love with this amazing Jesus. This Good Friday I somehow had a better understanding of the “suffering of Christ”. I’ve been thinking about Psalm 42, and the phrase “deeps calls to deep”. I can’t grasp the full meaning of these words; however, I don’t think I want to. There is a mystery in these words that stirs me. Some how, as I experience things I never dreamt possible, as I see things I never imagined I could see, as I begin to feel the depths of brokenness in this world, I feel as though my “deep” that calls out to “deep” grows deeper. As my need for strength grows stronger, as my need for comfort increases, I find them. It’s as if I have this well of life, and love, joy and peace at my side always, and it’s only when I am at the point of utter brokenness that I really begin to tap into the depth of what we’ve been given as children of God. In the past week I have felt feelings and seen things I cannot begin to understand. And in the past week I have felt the mighty hands of God take me up, hold me, and tell me I’ll never experience these things on my own. That’s what I was telling the woman as I looked so deeply into her brown eyes. “He’s never left you Love, and He will not leave you now.” And there he seemed to be, at her shoulders giving her the strength to push, and there he was behind me, giving me strength to stay by her side. I have never known a love like this. Easter means more to me this year than it has before. “It’s going to be worth it. It’s going to be worth it all.”

Psalm 42

Revelation 7:9-17

Happy Easter. He is worthy. He is so worthy.

Jeffery Jordon is wearing the first hat I've ever crocheted. I really enjoy crocheting.