The Longest Minutes .....

 That day in prenatal clinic, when I met her, I knew she was mine. The darling 16 year old girl sitting on my prenatal bed needed to be adopted by one specific caregiver, and as I asked her questions about her health, I knew I would be the one. I gave her my number, wrote my name on her chart, and committed to taking care of her throughout her pregnancy. I would be the one by her side as she birthed her baby into the world, and I would be the one who did checkups for her and her baby in the days following birth.

Good morning!

She sent me text messages 3-4 times every day, asking how I was and wishing me a good evening/morning/afternoon/coffee break.  My heart became increasingly endeared to her throughout her pregnancy, and I prayed regularly for and with her in the weeks leading up to the birth. I prayed that she would give birth before I left on an outreach trip into the country. Then, one prenatal appointment, she told me she'd been having contractions. I felt the beautiful curve that was her belly as it tightened into another contraction. Sure enough, it seemed she was in early labor. I encouraged her to eat and drink and rest so she would have strength for The Big Event.

Sakit Kaayo, mam Melissa.

She texted me all that afternoon and evening, keeping me informed on how much it hurt, and how she was coping. I decided to try to catch a few hours of sleep before The Big Event. I slept fitfully, my phone clutched in my hand, and my dreams filled with labor and birth. I woke every few minutes and checked my phone. At 2:30 am I got the text that I should meet her at the clinic. It was time. I scrambled out of bed and into my scrubs, praying for wisdom and protection.


Click.... click.... click, click, click, click....

"Breathe Jade" I told the little mamma-to-be. Breathe for your baby. The baby's heart beat was dipping uncomfortably low as labor intensified. This last stage of labor was really difficult, but Jade was not giving up. Her young determination was a beautiful thing to witness. We prayed together for her and for her baby. She used all her strength to bring her baby into the world.

Baby out! Floppy.

As I laid the new little one on her mother's tummy, I knew all was not well with this baby. I was praying in my head as we suctioned out the lungs. "1 minute apgar score" called out the charter. The answer was 4. 4 of 10 points. Points that indicated the baby's vitality and immediate chance of survival. The supervisor called for the baby's heartbeat. Urgently I grabbed the stethoscope with my blood-covered gloves and shoved it into my ears. I started taking heart beats.


170....160.....160...180....170

I called out the heart rate every 6 seconds, praying that God would give the breath of life to this little one. 2 minutes and still no breath. Only 2 minutes, but they passed by more like hours. A mask was fitted over the baby's mouth and nose, and my co-workers pushed air into those tiny lungs.

3 minutes.... 3.5 minutes...

 And then, finally, the answer to our collective prayer was manifest in the form of a gasp and a slight cry. That first little pioneering wail was followed by several more, stronger cries. By 5 minutes after her birth, the Apgar score was 7 out of 10.

Salamat sa Ginoo!

Gratitude was all I felt as I thanked God in her native tongue. The mother and father held hands and thanked God with me as their little girl made her presence known. We all knew clearly that He had sustained this little life, and given her breath.

Those were the longest minutes.

When someone who should be breathing, wasn't. I realized yesterday just how long a minute can last. Sunshine Melody, they named her. I will continue to care for this little family in the next few weeks. I will continue to share God's love with them, and marvel in the grace He has bestowed on them in the form of this tiny, new life.

All glory be to God, the Giver of Life.

On Making and Entrance....

I met a little boy the other night. He was one minute old when I met him. What stood out to me, was how he already had mastered the art of a Grand Entry.

The night wasn't so busy. We had one birth, and the mommy and baby were well, stable, and in the hands of a capable midwife. We were sitting around the midwife lounge area, occupying ourselves in various ways, when suddenly we heard it.


Beeeep! Beep beep BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!


Immediately four midwives jumped to their feet and ran out the door, grabbing various things on our way out. As the first out the door, I was putting on gloves, ready for anything. The taxi doors opened as I ran out the gate, and out piled three kids, one husband, a taxi driver, and one Lola (grandmother). I was a bit taken aback, because I couldn't imagine anyone else could've even fit in the taxi, but as I jerked open the back door, I was met by the frightened face of the mother and her sister, and the shocked first cry of the tiny baby lying on the seat.

Baby out, crying!
 

I'm trying to communicate our situation to the midwives behind me. Someone hands me a blanket, and I pick up the brand new little man, wiping his face and making sure he's ok. Another midwife pokes her head in the door from the other side, and in the dim light filtering out from our clinic windows we are trying to clamp and cut the umbilical cord and make sure the mother isn't bleeding too much. The guard shows up behind me with a wheelchair for the mother.

I feel like a celebrity.

As I walk back into the clinic I pass the awe-filled faces of three older siblings, and auntie, a grandmother, a father, and a traumatized taxi driver. I turn the little guy in my arms and tell the little kids to say 'hello' to their new brother. The poor taxi driver is standing there, a mixture of relief and bewilderment on his face as he surveys the mess that covers his back seat.

Bless his heart.


At post-partum appointments, little Patrick's older brother, Adrian, came to help mommy take care of him. He was so proud of his new little brother. He looked at me in wonder as I put the stethoscope in his ears, and let him listen to the heartbeat of the little guy. Such a proud little man, looking out for his mother and little brother. 

Practicing to be a good daddy.


Baby and mother turn out to be just fine. They didn't have any prenatal care with us, and I honestly think the taxi driver just drove them to the first place he knew of that could catch babies. The little guy continues to thrive. I'm not sure, he may have a future in performance... Because if nothing else,

He knows how to make a dramatic entrance.