Cross your legs girls...

29^th March 2012

This morning, Dan and I got a call at 7am to say that a woman had gone into labour. Having struggled out of our mosquito nets and thrown on some scrubs, we hurried over to the maternity unit, where the nurse in charge filled us in. The presentation of the baby was ‘footling’, which is a rare type of breech presentation where the baby’s foot is the first thing that is going to come out. This is particularly dangerous situation for both mother and baby. To put it into perspective, in the UK this would be an emergency, requiring a specialist obstetrician and an urgent caesarean. By the time we arrived, the nurses had already called an ambulance to take the woman to a larger hospital, as Mkope doesn’t even have an operating theatre, much less an obstetrician. The response over the phone was that neither ambulance was available due to lack of fuel. We were on our own.

By we, of course, I mean the mother and the nurses. I personally was hiding in the corner, with images of a traumatic labour, forceps, horrible tearing and paediatric resuscitation dancing through my head. Your average five-year-old child would probably have been of more use.

As the woman in labour reached full dilation and began to push, my heart leapt into my mouth, and from the look on Dan’s face he was feeling the same. As the first foot came out, I braced myself for 10 to 15 minutes of utter terrified panic. However, within five seconds, the woman had somehow pushed out the entire bottom half of the baby. Before we knew it, a pair of shoulders appeared, followed by a head, which promptly started crying. Somehow, this woman had managed to give birth to a breech baby with almost no assistance, within the space of about 40 seconds. We were stunned, relieved, and incredibly impressed.

Want to know the particularly incredible thing? This was done with NO PAIN RELIEF. No epidural, no pethidine, no gas and air. While doing her basic observations, I rubbed her shoulder and said ‘well done’, which felt about as appropriate as giving a thumbs up to someone who had just climbed Everest with no oxygen. Particularly as she didn’t seem to speak much English. Marvelling at the miracle that we had just seen, Dan and I nipped out for a quick drink of water.  Within about 15 minutes, the woman who had just given birth walked out of the labour room and into the post natal ward, fully dressed and carrying her suitcase.

Before the end of the morning we had also seen another woman deliver. This woman had come to the hospital saying that she was in labour, and had once again calmly walked onto the ward. Within minutes she was on the floor delivering the baby, as she didn’t have time to get to the bed. She had walked in and spoken to the nurses while literally in the process of giving birth.

Labour and birth are almost unrecognisable here. This is in no way diminishing the achievement of anyone who has given birth in the UK – having seen the process I absolutely take my hat off to all of you.  It’s just hard to do anything but gape in awe at women who sit through hours of contractions without anything more that rubbing their backs and moving around a bit. According to Clara, the aforementioned (amazing) head nurse, only about 20% of the women who deliver at Mkope scream. I witnessed her definition of ‘screaming’ this morning. Trust me, I made more of a fuss about the mosquito bites. When it comes right down to it, I’m just so impressed with the strength and courage of everyone involved today. Every member of staff and every mother seemed like part of a wonderful team that had banded together to ensure that mother and baby were safe and well, regardless of the difficulties that they encountered.

Also, seriously, no pain relief.

Mothers of Mkope, have a standing ovation.

Danni