When Joy and Sorrow Mix...

I wasn't sure how things would work out. 

She was just 18, and he was 19. Her labor was long and difficult. She was my Healing Birth. But although her birth was a joy and salve for my soul, for her the story looked quite different. I could not figure out the dynamic between her and her 'husband'. He was not attentive, nor very helpful through the 29 hours she labored. She was closed up when he was around.... numb.




At least she had a good brother. 

 Right after birth when she decided to get up and use the bathroom without asking, she stood up only to find an alarming amount of blood pooling around her feet. Her 'husband' and brother were in the cubicle, yelling for me. We sat her down quickly, and grabbed a bed pan. Then her brother knelt down and carefully wiped all the blood off her legs and the floor.


I yelled at her 'husband'.

He was going to let her walk to the bathroom alone, with her IV, only two hours after giving birth. He was going to stand there, not offering help, and watch her go. So I yelled at him.

You will be the one! What do you THINK??!! She has already given birth. She has already worked for 29 hours to bring your baby into the world. YOU CANNOT LET HER GO ALONE! Here! Take this IV bottle. Take her arm like this. DON'T LEAVE HER FOR ANY Reason!

I was still a bit angry.

I whirled around to the brother.
"You will watch the baby while she is gone." I ordered
 "Oh yes ma'am" he replied, all the while texting updates to family and friends. But I was in a passion.
 "NO! The baby will be cold just lying there on the bed. You will hold the baby."
"Oh ma'am, I cannot! I'm afraid!" He said.
I did not respond. I lifted the baby and carried her to her uncle.
"Hold your arms like this." I showed him the way the baby would just rest against his body. I helped him to relax. "See? You're like a professional now." I turned to clean up the bed. Then he started shouting.... "Lihok sya! Lihok sya!" (she's moving, she's moving!) I turned to see a terrified uncle trying to balance the little bundle who had just turned her head. I almost laughed, but, in deference to the personal dignity of the uncle, I swallowed my humor and assured him it is normal for babies to move when they're alive.

He adjusted well.

A few minutes later, I looked over into the cubicle and noticed that the uncle had become much more relaxed in his posture while holding his tiny niece. Just a few minutes after that my heart was overwhelmed with pride when I peeked over and caught the uncle, now comfortable enough to pose for a selfie like this. -->

The joy mixed with tears.

Three weeks after the birth, I was doing a routine checkup with my cute little patient. I asked her how her 'husband' was doing, and if he was helpful with the baby.
"No ma'am" she replied. "I think.... deep breath... I think maybe he has another girl."

I look at her, suddenly understanding it all.

 Is that sad for you?
"A little, ma'am" she replies. In a culture where everyone is supposed to smile all the time, to joke about pain, and to laugh over embarrassment, "a little" means HEARTBROKEN.

 
And then she blew me away. 

"Ma'am, at least I have my baby, though." Wow. A single, heartbroken, 18-year-old mom, living with her parents, betrayed by the father of her baby, no way of making a living, and she is thankful for her little girl. She told me she doesn't mind the sleepless nights, or the lack of support. She LOVES her baby.


 A few days later I received a text. 

"Ma'am Melissa? I know now, my 'husband' has another girl. Thank you ma'am. I just wanted you to know."  I cried with her. I cried for all the joy, and for all the sorrow. Mixed tears. For the baby who will not know her daddy. For the young woman who is pioneering motherhood alone. For the new life granted. For anger towards the young man who is shirking fatherhood. For wonder over the way this girl has chosen to value her baby.... not to resent her.