The Miracle of Birth

Early this week, our neighbor, Ngono, came to us to say that she was having labor pains. We listened to the baby's heartbeat, confirmed that she was having significant contractions, and told her to call us when things progressed a little more. We don't usually deliver babies out here, since Baka babies are usually delivered at home without any complications, but we had good reason to be present at this birth. Ngono's birth history leaves a lot to be desired. Her first delivery was a C-section. We don't know the reason. Her second delivery was stillborn. Again, we don't know why. So, with limited resources and no facilities, we did not want to gamble with this one. Any physician in the States would have scheduled a c-section for this delivery, but we don't have that option, and the only facility equipped to handle a c-section is without a doctor right now. So, we prayed, a lot!
By uterine size, we thought Ngono was ready to deliver a month ago, and she thought she had seen some amniotic fluid at that time too, but she was only having light contractions, and the head was still very high. It would have been nice to test for amniotic fluid, but we don't have the ability out here. So, we kept an eye on her, and both mom and baby continued to do well.
Fast forward one month. Ngono leaned back against the chest of another Baka woman who supported her during each contraction. Reda and I sat with her on a double sized mattress in a room barely big enough to hold the bed. The floor was dirt and the walls were also dirt, plastered with cement. Though Ngono and her mother-in-law did their best to keep the place as clean and tidy as possible, mice peeked in at us every once in a while, and the presence of insects was evident.
Late in the afternoon, about 24 hours after Ngono began labor, birth was eminent. We waited for one little rim of cervix to slip out of the way. Attending the birth were Ngono's mother-in-law, Reda, myself, 4-5 other Baka ladies, and one small child. Needless to say, the room, only big enough to squeeze in a double-sized mattress, was crowded. Most of us piled on the bed.
Ngono insisted that she needed to use the bathroom. No amount of telling her that she was experiencing pressure from the baby's head was going to convince her. So, we provided her with a old milk can beside the bed... She squatted, buttocks pressed against the bed, knees against the wall. After a few minutes of pushing, against our pleadings, we succeeded in dragging her back onto the bed, and there was the baby's head, fully crowned. A quick moment of perineal massage. The head was delivered, the shoulders quickly followed. The apgar score would not have been good. Peripheral cyanosis, eyes bulging, no spontaneous breathing, very little response to stimulation and flaccid limbs, but his heart was beating strong. After a few tense minutes of suctioning and stimulation, we got a weak cry. Some more stimulation and his tone began to improve. I heard one of the ladies remark how white his feet were and then I heard someone say that it was a boy. By the time the umbilical cord was cut, we were confident that he was sufficiently resuscitated. A healthy little boy, a safe delivery. Thank you Lord!
The little guy, still unnamed, is 3 days old now, and I can hear him crying next door. I heard yesterday that he and his mom will be departing for her parent's village as soon as his umbilical cord falls off. Apparently she only stayed here to deliver the baby. Her husband has been gone for the last several months. It was his child from another wife who died on my front porch shortly after my arrival. It is rumored that he has sent word to Ngono to go back to her parents, because he has found yet another wife. I like Ngono. She is a hard worker, smiles and laughs a lot, and is patient with my attempts to learn her language. It will be sad to see her go.
But I praise God for the miracle of a safe delivery, against the odds, of a healthy baby boy.