By Kari, Serving short-term in The Gambia
Right as we were closing for the day, a young mother was brought into the clinic. She was in active labor but was having difficulty with the home delivery. As the nurse midwife and I checked her, we discovered that the baby was breech (bottom first). In an attempt to give the best care possible, the mom was loaded up into the ambulance to be transferred to the closest hospital.
Unfortunately, we had to transfer three other patients along with this mom. Eventually the four patients were loaded up and sent on their way. As I began putting away supplies, a conversation was taking place in Wolof with the nurse practitioner. Then I heard the calm voice of Suellen, an ABWE missionary, say, “Put on a pair of gloves. Go out to the ambulance. The baby is being delivered.”
There was no need to tell me twice. In record time I sprinted across the compound, squeezed through the onlookers, and found myself in between the two Gambian nurse midwives in the ambulance.
The baby boy was being pulled, pushed, and tugged for what seemed like an eternity. Finally he was delivered. One of the staff picked up his limp body and pushed on his chest. After no response he proclaimed, “He’s dead.” The baby was dropped like litter right at my knees.
My thoughts flashed back to a conversation where I was told that in emergency situations, the mother is often taken care of before the baby. In that moment the mom had two nurse midwives attending to her; I was just taking up space. So, I did something I had no training for. I picked up the baby and did exactly what I’ve seen done on the Discovery Health Channel. I tipped him upside down and started stimulating him. At first gentle taps and rubs, then more vigorous slaps to the back, all the while desperately praying for his life.
“Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” —2 Corinthians 12:10
Imagine my amazement when I felt his limp body respond! His little limbs moved, and I heard a faint cough. Is this my imagination? A little more stimulation got a stronger cough. He’s alive! Now what? “He’s breathing. Do we have anything to suction him?” I heard myself saying.
Eventually, I passed the baby off to a staff member and he ran the baby inside. As I made my way inside the clinic, I prepared myself for the worst. I stepped into the room, and several staff members were gathered around a quiet bassinet. To my amazement, I found a bright-eyed baby boy!
I am in tears as I reflect back on that day. I have no experience in delivering or resuscitating newborn babies. I cannot emphasize enough: It was not my hands working that day; it was God! Your prayers go with missionaries as they face unforeseen challenges, sometimes way beyond their own training or strength. It is prayer that makes the difference.
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