Labor of Love (and Pain)

Thursday was “Labor Day” both here in Uganda and in Colorado. Rachel (on staff here) received a text from her best friend, Corey that she was going into labor 2 weeks early. Knowing that Corey would deliver her first born while Rachel was in Uganda was enough to make her question her decision to be on staff in Africa for 6 months. We all knew on Thursday that Rachel’s heart was longing to be in Colorado in the delivery room with Corey. And it was tearing her apart.
Rachel and I had planned to pick up 9 months pregnant Christine (a Suubi woman) from her house and take her shopping for her “Birthing Kit” since her due date was quickly approaching. In Uganda, women have to bring their own kits into the delivery room, this includes: a razor, surgical gloves, a plastic mat to lay on, bed sheets, basins, soap, powder, and lotion to wash the baby, a baby blanket, and their own medicine to stop their bleeding. But on arriving at Christine’s house we learned she went into labor early that morning and was at Jinja Main Hospital. We rushed to the hospital to be with her. It is not customary for a woman’s husband to be with her in the delivery room. And often times she goes through the whole process alone.
From the very beginning Rachel knew this was a gift from God. She would help Christine during her delivery as an act of solidarity for her best friend she couldn’t be with.
I am in the process of working on a project about pregnancy and delivery in Uganda. I interviewed Christine 2 days earlier about the expectations of a pregnant woman in a typical Ugandan household, and what labor will look like. She gave me permission to film her whole delivery experience. So as the vulture journalist that I am, I whipped out my camera (luckily fully charged with a spare battery) and started documenting this incredible moment in her life. Let me clarify, there is no Hippa Privacy Laws here in Uganda.
Christine was unusually lifeless and in an immense amount of pain. There were many times throughout her 13 hour delivery where she was left alone to struggle for herself. I spent the last 5 hours with her in a cramped, foul-smelling delivery room, with 2 other women giving birth on each side. There was no such thing as an epidural or medication to induce the delivery. Her friend, Betty acted as a makeshift mid-wife, stirring up a tea that was supposed to help speed up the process. But Christine was tough and pulled through to win what she calls “A Tug of War.”
At 2 o’clock in the afternoon, Christine delivered an alert and healthy Ugandan baby boy she named Randy (after Rachel’s husband). I tried to act as the objective journalist by not getting too involved, but I couldn’t help myself from cheering when Randy was placed in Christine’s arms.

(Me, Mama and her prize after winning that "Tug of War")

I’ve never witnessed a live birth before even in America. But I can imagine bloody gauze doesn’t just sit in an open trash can near the sink, little critters don’t scurry about 2 feet away from the mothers’ bed, and a mother isn’t supposed to be fighting for HER life as she tries to deliver her baby’s.

(Rachel holding baby Randy)

As Rachel held little Randy in her arms in the delivery room, 6,000 miles away, her best friend Corey delivered a healthy American baby boy. In the end Labor Day was a great example of how huge God is that he can transcend time zones. And how much he wants to bless us with the good gifts he has for us.
What a day.