Normal birth is indeed possible

I tried to get that toothless grin outta her, but it just wasn't happening

I had the privilege of working with a 47 year old mother this week. I helped her deliver her 14th baby, 11 which are still living. I wish I had a picture of her sweet smile. She was toothless and slightly wrinkled and unbelievably beautiful. I'm pretty sure she knew more than me about the whole process. Her first baby was born in 1985, 3 years before I was even born.  Imagine, that's like an entire lifetime committed to being pregnant and having children. I really felt like I had the opportunity to learn from and work with a pro this week. The delivery was quick, smooth, and easy as expected. She labored silently, only occasionally grabbing the lower part of her back, which I faithfully massaged for her. She didn't speak a word of English and she laughed at me as I butchered some phrases in Swahili to her. As the head began to descend, the lines on her face hardened and she held her breath, indicating to me that the contractions were getting harder. Ladies, it still hurts, even after 13 other times.

Between her strong contractions she sipped on hot tea... (okay... so maybe it doesn't hurt as bad) Finally, the pain hinted to her to recline back and prepare to welcome her next child.  I quickly prepared her oxytocin for her intramuscular injection after the birth, as I knew that once the baby was ready it was practically going to Rollerblade out. I sliced my finger open on an a glass ampule of medication and just as I saw the head coming my thumb leaked out a significant amount of blood.

No time to bandage it, shoot.
I put on a pair of non-sterile gloves, and somehow managed to quickly slip on two pairs of tight, sterile gloves over my injured hand...in just enough time to welcome baby Abigail with one, brilliant push into the world.

Baby let out an immediate cry, and I knew she was going to be okay. No resuscitation needed today. Salima and I both laughed as she rubbed her new little one on her back.

"Wakiume? Wakike?" she asked me.

and I lifted her daughter off her tummy for her to see the gender.


"wakike," we both said as we looked between her legs with a laugh.
I wondered how many of those she already had, but knew there was no sense in even trying to ask because of our language barrier.

Abigail continued to whimper and mama just shushed her with a proud glow on her face. I silently whimpered along thinking about my throbbing thumb that was filling my first glove with my own blood. Never a dull moment around here, even if the delivery is "normal"


It was a good day. And every so often, they just are. Period

she might look like she doesn't love me or want me to take the photo, but I am pretty sure she's just never had her picture taken before. We were buds.

enjoying some porridge after her delivery. girls gotta eat.

cry, baby Abigail!

This mama, is 15 and was laboring just across from Salima. What a stark contrast to what I was working with. Reality.