Before I came to Siguatepeque, Honduras I had never seen a birth. I had never truly understood the empowerment needed for a woman to give birth. I had not truly become aware of the need of a midwife.
Coming in, I knew the Lord had said my ministry is to be holistic family. I thought it kind of funny He suggested I study to be a midwife and begin at the birth of a new family member. Me, the woman who often refused a babe, a midwife?
My first shift at the birthing clinic my incompetence and unfamiliarity held me back. I kept praying for confidence without really believing it would come. The thought of incompetence kept coming and overwhelming me.
Finally, our first girl, G, was ready to give birth. The doctor ruptured her membranes and two pushes later (TWO!!)at 10.27 am, she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. I chose to follow him into the nursery. (It is actually not a nursery, but it is the closest I can get to describing it.) I watched the nursing student as he passively, slightly roughly handled the newborn.
I felt Holy Spirit wave over me. "M, here is where I want you to change this. When it is you- I want you to pray. Proclaim destiny. Love. Declare truth. Let me be the breath of life." I smiled softly- that I was definitely capable of.
My next birth I was more hands on. It was the same day, same hour even that G had given birth. N was more open to us. She and I walked and swayed. We used breathing techniques and moaning. I applied counter pressure to her hips. I watched as her fears abated. During her birth, I chose to stand by her side, holding her hand, smiling (because it is me after all) encouraging her on. At 2 PM, on the dot, she too gave birth to a baby boy.
Weeks have passed since that first day. My roommate/ the other intern, N, and I have grown in confidence- so much so, she and I have been at Centro de Salud by ourselves. I have watched and prayed. I have been pooped on and bled on. I have encouraged and empowered. I have called on God and felt his presence bring peace and comfort.
I have also been so angry. So incredibly angry. Some of the doctors and nurses do not know how to talk to a laboring woman. They mock and downtick her. They scare her. They make her feel stupid. It grates me. It agitates me like crazy.
Last week, I worked with a girl who was having crazy labour pains. She felt the need to push long before she was fully dilated. It was tough hearing her call out and watching her in pain, but we made it through. By the time she was in the stirrups (the only way she is allowed to give birth at the Centro) , she was slightly worn out. N had gone with her and was standing at her right shoulder. The nurse working the birth was encouraging as the mother to be pushed, waiting through the pause in contractions. She acted like she had all the time in the world. Then a doctor came. She is a new face around the clinic (a contract doctor) and not my favorite. The doctor never asked any questions, just came in, and when the contraction came, began to push on the baby. Pushing, pushing, pushing. At first, with the mother, then G could not keep up. G looked at me, pain clouding her eyes, trying to breathe. Watching her struggle to breath really got me. Her baby, a boy, was covered in meconium. I am convinced being pumped out of his mother's womb put him in distress.
I ventured on my way back to the ministry house. Beyond agitated. So upset I was sure I would begin to cry. Compassion is not my strength and it was evident as I verbally processed my thoughts and feelings about the doctor that day. My need for justice and right was high. Most of it focused toward that particular doctor.
I ate lunch by myself. Venting to God, trying to find peace, asking for His help to... not feel. My spirit finally began to quiet.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It keeps no record of wrongs.
I sighed deeply; But Lord...
And very clearly, Holy Spirit said: "M, love is patient. She [the doctor] has to learn love and compassion for these women, but you need to learn patience and kindness toward her as she learns. Your year of learning love is about everybody- not just the people you like..." He went on about love, how to apply it, what it should truly look like. By the end of my meal, I had a deep conviction: love these men and women with the love of God. No matter my feelings.
Now just to live it out.
Coming in, I knew the Lord had said my ministry is to be holistic family. I thought it kind of funny He suggested I study to be a midwife and begin at the birth of a new family member. Me, the woman who often refused a babe, a midwife?
My first shift at the birthing clinic my incompetence and unfamiliarity held me back. I kept praying for confidence without really believing it would come. The thought of incompetence kept coming and overwhelming me.
Finally, our first girl, G, was ready to give birth. The doctor ruptured her membranes and two pushes later (TWO!!)at 10.27 am, she gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. I chose to follow him into the nursery. (It is actually not a nursery, but it is the closest I can get to describing it.) I watched the nursing student as he passively, slightly roughly handled the newborn.
I felt Holy Spirit wave over me. "M, here is where I want you to change this. When it is you- I want you to pray. Proclaim destiny. Love. Declare truth. Let me be the breath of life." I smiled softly- that I was definitely capable of.
My next birth I was more hands on. It was the same day, same hour even that G had given birth. N was more open to us. She and I walked and swayed. We used breathing techniques and moaning. I applied counter pressure to her hips. I watched as her fears abated. During her birth, I chose to stand by her side, holding her hand, smiling (because it is me after all) encouraging her on. At 2 PM, on the dot, she too gave birth to a baby boy.
Weeks have passed since that first day. My roommate/ the other intern, N, and I have grown in confidence- so much so, she and I have been at Centro de Salud by ourselves. I have watched and prayed. I have been pooped on and bled on. I have encouraged and empowered. I have called on God and felt his presence bring peace and comfort.
I have also been so angry. So incredibly angry. Some of the doctors and nurses do not know how to talk to a laboring woman. They mock and downtick her. They scare her. They make her feel stupid. It grates me. It agitates me like crazy.
Last week, I worked with a girl who was having crazy labour pains. She felt the need to push long before she was fully dilated. It was tough hearing her call out and watching her in pain, but we made it through. By the time she was in the stirrups (the only way she is allowed to give birth at the Centro) , she was slightly worn out. N had gone with her and was standing at her right shoulder. The nurse working the birth was encouraging as the mother to be pushed, waiting through the pause in contractions. She acted like she had all the time in the world. Then a doctor came. She is a new face around the clinic (a contract doctor) and not my favorite. The doctor never asked any questions, just came in, and when the contraction came, began to push on the baby. Pushing, pushing, pushing. At first, with the mother, then G could not keep up. G looked at me, pain clouding her eyes, trying to breathe. Watching her struggle to breath really got me. Her baby, a boy, was covered in meconium. I am convinced being pumped out of his mother's womb put him in distress.
I ventured on my way back to the ministry house. Beyond agitated. So upset I was sure I would begin to cry. Compassion is not my strength and it was evident as I verbally processed my thoughts and feelings about the doctor that day. My need for justice and right was high. Most of it focused toward that particular doctor.
I ate lunch by myself. Venting to God, trying to find peace, asking for His help to... not feel. My spirit finally began to quiet.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It keeps no record of wrongs.
I sighed deeply; But Lord...
And very clearly, Holy Spirit said: "M, love is patient. She [the doctor] has to learn love and compassion for these women, but you need to learn patience and kindness toward her as she learns. Your year of learning love is about everybody- not just the people you like..." He went on about love, how to apply it, what it should truly look like. By the end of my meal, I had a deep conviction: love these men and women with the love of God. No matter my feelings.
Now just to live it out.
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