SID Research Associate & 1st year medical student, University of Alberta: Rabia Bana, Kenya 2012
Her first born…
It was 10:30 pm when she got the call, the nurse I mean. There was a young mother in the community who was in labour. She was at the clinic just by the house; Sister went to see her. The mama still had time so Sister came home to have dinner. After dinner we walked to the clinic, in the black night, following the small patch of dirt road illuminated by the torch. We entered the maternity ward – one room for labour, one room for resting. She opened the door to see the young mama curled up on a resting bed, looking much like the foetus insider her. Around her sat the women of the family. She took the girl to the labour room, gave her a vaginal exam, felt for the baby’s head, and then waited. Sister asked her if she felt an urge to push and the mama indicated her desire to pass stool. The stool passed, and so did the hours. This mama was small; she had no energy to push. Her contractions became stronger as the minutes passed but not strong enough to push the baby out. She was directed to walk around; maybe this would help the baby come down faster. Poor girl was so tired she could barely stand, but she got up from the delivery bed, wrapped a cloth around her naked belly and went for a walk. This happened three or four times before Sister decided to give up. She was about to tell her to pack up and head to the district hospital because there was nothing more she could do for her at the rural dispensary. Just then the girl decided to push and we saw a glimpse of the baby’s head. Now the air was filled with excitement and anticipation; something amazing was about to happen and we could all feel it. She was in agony, but she pushed. The baby’s head would make a brief appearance during a strong push and then retreat into the mother as she ran out of strength. Finally, she pushed hard enough and the whole head came out. That was the moment of truth for me; when it all became very real. There I was, standing in a village clinic in Kenya, staring at a baby’s head, freshly emerged from a young girl’s vagina. People say that birth is a magical experience. In that moment, I was traumatized and fascinated at the same time; maybe that is magic. Before I knew it, the baby was out and Sister was cutting the cord. Many people think this is the end, but there is much more that comes out of the mother. Through the entire birth so far, I had managed to overlook the massive amount of blood that had also emerged from the young mama. Now that the baby was out, all I could see was blood. Then came the placenta, ushering out another fountain of blood. She had torn, she was still in so much pain, and the blood kept coming. Sister made a gauze pad and inserted it into her vagina to soak up the blood; she finally stopped bleeding. Sister then stitched her up; she got up from the delivery bed, moved to the resting bed, and lay there completely still. The women in the family wrapped up the baby and put him down beside her. In the span of a few hours, this young mama had produced a new life; and changed mine forever.
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That was a great story keep up the good work