This is the story of the 29th child I delivered. It's not a happy one, so if you're looking for a tale of a bouncing baby, this isn't it.
This is my second year as an instructor on the Birth Attendant school. Currently we're doing our practical training in Zambia, Africa. It's not ever my hope to take a delivery, because we have many students and I want to ensure they get all the experience that they can, but on occasion it just happens and I get to catch a baby.
About a week and a half ago, we did a week of night shifts at the hospital we volunteer with. I met this mama on our last night, she came in from the admissions room and settled on a bed. None of my students were monitoring her, so I walked by her several times and I didnt really know what her case was. One particular time I walked by, she yelled out to me "Nursie! Nursie!" I stopped and could tell that her baby would probably be coming soon. I quickly read over her paperwork and saw that she was HIV positive and in labour about 2 months early, and then my heart dropped into my stomach when I read that her baby was possibly dead. The doctors in admissions had been unable to find a heartbeat, but the mama said that she had been feeling the baby move. We were hopeful that the baby would be alive and so we prepared for a live baby. The little one came quickly and he had indeed died in the womb. We had to tell the mama that her baby wasn't alive, and showed her the gender of the baby: a little boy. She was heartbroken. She already had a girl at home, so a little boy would have been a very exciting moment for her family. Together we packed up her things so that she could go the post delivery ward to rest. My heart broke as I saw that when she arrived she had set up all her baby clothes and blankets and towels ready to recieve a healthy baby, but had to put them unused back into her bag. I helped her to a place to rest and then I lost it. I was a sobbing mess I tell you. I was sitting there crying and praying, and God reminded me that his mercy is new every morning.
When we deliver babies we welcome them in Jesus name and pray over each one and ask God for a name for them, so I prayed over this little guy whose life was cut short and felt that God gave him the name Matthew (which means gift of Yahweh) One of the students was able to tell the mama that it wasn't her fault that her baby died, and prayed with her. God reminded me why he's called me here. Why I see things that are difficult, why I'm a midwife, why I'm a missionary. People need love, people need hope, people need Jesus.