I was involved in a delivery this week with a young mother who was fearful and anxious for the better part of her laboring pains. She was really hurting. As I did my best to console her she clenched onto my uniform and begged me with her eyes not to leave her side. I, of course, willingly obliged. It was past the cut-off time for me to be able to “conduct” the delivery so I called over an MD intern and asked if he would be willing to take the delivery. I could tell he was apprehensive but that was just because he wasn’t 100% sure of what he was doing.
“But this is your patient, you have to do the delivery,” he said following a few more other excuses as to why he shouldn’t do it.
It wasn’t my patient. In fact, I was just cleaning the labor room on this day. I didn’t have any patients.
“I’m going to stay with you, I’ll help you,” I assured him, all the while talking to his nerves.
He put on a pair of gloves as her membranes began to bulge. She was a first time mom, but we both could see that little bub was going to follow out as soon as her membranes broke. When he slipped on his gloves the mother glared at me and shook her head “no” without him seeing. She spoke no English but our nonverbal communication made it clear that she didn’t want this young man delivering her baby. She pointed to me with her finger gesturing that I should check her cervix instead of him. I just smiled and gave her free reign to clench back onto my clothing, which she did.
Its safe to say that it hurt me more than her that I couldn’t deliver her baby. I had connected with her at this point and there’s something so special about delivering the baby of a woman who trusts you. But quickly I let the disappoint roll off as I got to see that just being there with her and my assisting this new doctor was sufficient enough for her. She was lying down but she wrapped her arm around my waist pulling me snugly into her body. I breathed with her. Pushed with her. I enjoyed being this close to her. If I was catching her baby I would have missed this.
Babies head came and I grabbed her hand to place between her legs and feel the top of her new little ones head. It’s like saying, “don’t give up. I know it hurts but there’s hope! She’s coming!”
Some screaming, some waiting, some “okay push now, mama!!!” happened and babies head and torso was delivered but the lower part of her body remained inside her mom (where it was safe :]) It didn’t stop baby from opening her eyes and letting out a scream as though saying, “hellooooo, I’m here!! What is this place?!? I’m not sure I want to come all the way out yet.” But mama gave a strong push and the intern tugged on the little body and welcomed the baby in its entirety onto mama’s belly. Baby was healthy and alert and alive.
Mom loosened the grip she had on me, only enough to allow me to breath but not enough to move from her side. Tears welled up in her eyes,
“Thank you sister, thank you, thank you, thank you. Oh, sister, thank you.” She told me in Swhahili a multitude of times. She looked up at the intern and thanked him as well. I was glad he got the acknowledgement he deserved.
“Congratulations, mama. Thank you Jesus!” I told her back in her own language.
And then together we thanked Jesus for the baby. My Swahili skills ran out here and again I found myself grateful the intern was there. I asked him to translate as I told her how beautiful her baby was, how much the baby loves her already, and how well she did. There was a lot of gratitude going around.
Lying on her mothers bare chest baby opened up her little eyes and gazed up into her mommas face and they shared a look that almost audibly spoke eternal love. To say it was just “sweet” would rob the moment of what it really was.
 |
| Photos of different mothers I worked with this week |
It was a beautiful encounter, a beautiful delivery, and a blessing to be apart of.
When a baby is born it does nothing to deserve love and yet it is just that: loved- uncontrollably, unconditionally. In fact, it has done nothing yet in the world except cause its mother excruciating pain often subsequently causing the father to fear for the life of everyone involved. It’s fair to say it’s been a royal pain in the butt. (sometimes literally) A pain though, that’s quickly forgotten with the first stolen glance between the mother and the baby. A love that truly has no words. I have never experienced this myself, but what a joy it is to watch someone experience this for the first time. Those motherly instincts come immediately, like a button that gets pushed. Maybe baby flicks a little switch on its way out, an ‘okay now you’re a momma’ switch. Watching a woman become a mother for the first time is priceless. To see someone love another with such a wholesome, pure love is infectious. The baby doesn’t have to look the right way or say the right thing. It doesn’t have to have the right credentials. There doesn’t have to be guarantees of the little one becoming someone great, its just unconditionally loved as it is in the moment. 
Got me thinking, what if I loved people this way? Loved people the way a mother loves her newborn. Without criticism, without expectations, without comparisons.There must come a moment when our parents or somebody we know fails us and we think we have to earn love because it doesn’t just come naturally. We think we have to be the right person or say thing right thing or being going the right direction in life to be worthy of unconditional love. What if we loved people without conditions though? Without expectations? What if we loved people the way a mother loves her baby when she first sees it? More importantly what if we loved people the way the Father loves us? Because, after all isn’t a mothers love just a reflection of His love for us?
I think a love like this could change the world.
It was a good week this week and I continue to learn far more in the labor room than I bargained for.
Here's some fun photos from my week:
