by an anonymous AFM Cross-Cultural Worker
Jenny (my wife’s pseudonym) went into labor after falling asleep on the couch the evening of the 29th. Contractions came every 10 minutes or so throughout the night and were quite strong by daylight. Around 6:30 we made the decision to go to the hospital. There is a 7-7 curfew in place currently, so we were a little disappointed that we didn’t get to break it. (The doctor had given us a fancy note to flash at the police in order to get through, but that hope had to be laid aside.)
A friend in our building was letting us borrow their car, so down we hobbled four floors. The hospital is about 25 minutes away, but I missed the turn off twice. In my defense, the normal road had become mysteriously blocked by rubble and dirt piles, so we had to find the “service road”. I asked a guy for directions and tried them out, but to no avail. It is common in our country of service to get directions that lead you to all sorts of exciting places, but not the place you want to go. The people here are very friendly; they want to help and just don’t have it in them to say, “I’m not sure where that is.”
In this case, we found ourselves on a very bumpy dirt track under a bridge dodging potholes. We came out on the other side facing the wrong direction. After a short reverse into oncoming traffic (a common and acceptable maneuver here; honestly I think it should be adopted in more countries. How annoying is it to have to take the next exit and turn around when you miss a turn. Much easier simply to turn your emergency lights on, back up to the missed turn, and then cut across several lanes of traffic to make your exit.) Anyways, after a short reverse into oncoming traffic we found a way to take us back to find the service road, which was more of a parking lot with lots of traffic, broken down trucks, and goats strewn about. Meanwhile, M was still in labor and the contractions were increasing.
We arrived at the hospital. I saw a free parking space, but Jenny very calmly suggested that we park closer than 100 m away from the door, so we did. Once on our feet, I held her through every contraction. We took the elevator to the fourth floor, which had a warm birthing pool waiting for us. Jenny got in and immediately the contractions became for manageable. I sat in front of her holding her hands and gave her sips of water and almonds between contractions. Eventually, I got into the pool with her to help her keep a good position, and the doctor took over with the water and almonds. Mossy labored for 13 hours. I was so incredibly proud of her. I’m not sure how long she pushed, but it was long enough that I was exhausted, so I can’t begin to imagine how she felt. Sometime around noon, our son was born!
We came home that evening as three. Jenny and I were beaming with joy and very, very sleepy. Thank you all for your patient prayers. He arrived 10 days late, and I know all of you had us all in your hearts during this time. We can’t wait for him to meet all of his various family, friends, and relations when we return to the States for home ministry assignment this summer (Lord willing).
God bless you all- thank you for being part of our support team!
