After a somewhat relaxing weekend following my return from camp, I started in Maternity for my final week in the hospital. Having spent basically all my time with Alisha by my side up until that point, it was weird walking to the hospital by myself, but I was just grateful that she was now taking anti-malarial medication and was somewhat on the mend. Not quite knowing where I was going or what I was doing, I entered into the Maternity ward, happened to run into Dr. Truxton, one of the SIM missionary doctors who has actually been at the hospital for the last 35 years. She directed me to the delivery room, and there I was introduced to some of the nurses. Labor and Delivery nursing is much different than in the states, as all the nurses in that ward are certified nurse midwives, and therefore they are the ones to do all the deliveries. The doctors at Evangel do not really ever deliver babies unless there is a complication of some sort.
When I first walked into the delivery room, there was a woman who had just delivered and was having a postpartum hemorrhage. It was a little bit of an extreme introduction to the ward as I walked in, this woman is bleeding all over the place, and one of nurses tells me to get a protective apron on before I came over to watch her try and stop the bleeding and repair a laceration on the woman…when you have to wear a white dress uniform all day you definitely learn to appreciate protective shielding. After the woman’s bleeding had stopped and she was all cleaned and sutured up, she was transferred to the next room over to recover, and the nurse midwife, whose name was Janet, took me on a tour of the ward. She showed me where everything was and explained how everything works, and honestly, from there on out, the day was really uneventful. I learned very quickly that things in Labor and Delivery are either crazy busy, or maddeningly slow. I think the most exciting thing that happened during the rest of that day was that a little baby boy peed all over my leg…awesome.
The following day was pretty much the opposite, and I learned very quickly that I prefer overly busy to slow and uneventful. Oh yes, and I apologize in advance for anything gross or uncomfortable I might address. Of course I’m not going to put in ALL the details, but this is the miracle of life we’re talking about here, and certain things just fascinate me, as messy as they might be. Anyway, when I first arrived there were two women who had been at the hospital all night, and although they were carrying term babies, they had not yet gone into labor, so they were given some Prostaglandin to speed up the process. While we were waiting for the medication to take effect, I got to change into some scrubs and watch a C-Section that was taking place. Even though I’ve seen a few while in my OB rotation in the states, they never cease to amaze me, and it was interesting to watch because it was done slightly differently than I had seen before. Based on what I had seen in the states, once the baby is out the doctors actually pull the uterus outside the body to sew it up, which was quite an interesting thing to see. It kind of looks like a little turkey or something plopped outside the pelvic cavity, with the little fallopian tubes as wings…yeah, you might have to be a nurse to find amusement in that mental image. Anyway, in the C-Section I saw in Nigeria they actually left the uterus inside as they stitched it up, and I wish I would have asked why, but I never got around to it, because right as I walked out of the OR into the delivery room, one of the other women was going into labor.
From what I could tell, Sarah (the woman going into labor) was all by herself at the hospital and did not have any family or friends there to support her, so I quickly went to the bedside and began assisting her with the long and painful process of labor. I would lift up her head when the contractions came and let her squeeze my hand when she needed to, but after about an hour of pushing things started to get a little crazy. It was Sarah’s first baby, and I don’t think she was taught beforehand when or how to push properly, so she had expended too much energy early on in labor, and therefore was having a hard time progressing. After a while it was decided that the a doctor should be called in because the baby had pretty much crowned, but the contractions were not sustained, and this woman was having such a hard time pushing because of her fatigue. I stood in the midst of madness as there were two doctors and three nurses (not including myself) surrounding her, the decision was made to start an IV line so she could get some Pitocin to increase her contractions, while at the same time it was decided to get out the vacuum extractor because the baby needed to come out sooner rather than later. There was pretty much only one helpful light in the room that was being turned back and forth between the woman’s hand, where the IV site was trying to be established, and her birth canal, where the vacuum extractor was attempting to be used. Neither of these approaches were successful for quite some time however, as Sarah had difficult veins, and I think they honestly tried to start the IV line at least five times, moving from arm to arm, and failing with each attempt. The vacuum extractor was also slightly defective, because it had this hand pump that would build up the suction, but once it was pumped up, unless it was held in a specific position it would lose that suction and you’d have to start all over.
So I’m standing there, half-amused and half-horrified by the scenario of this poor woman lying there going through labor, her baby is almost out, surrounded by medical personnel arguing about whether they should start the IV or just forget it and go with the vacuum extraction, getting stuck with a needle over and over again in one hand and then the other, with this strange device that keeps malfunctioning stuck in her vagina…oh yes, and of course she had already had an episiotomy, so that always adds to the fun. I guess that’s why God kind of repeated Himself in Genesis 3:16 when He said, “I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children.” He wasn’t sure that just saying it once would get the message through. Well, the vacuum extractor ended up working before an IV line could be successfully started, so Sarah finally gave girth to a beautiful baby boy. Unfortunately, the pain of labor and delivery does not actually end after delivery, as most of the time the women have episiotomies and/or lacerations that need repair, and although I obviously can’t speak from experience, I would guess that the repair isn’t very comfortable either. Despite all the pain and discomfort however, I’d imagine there is not much that can be compared with the joy of bringing life into the world, and I reminded the women of that as I was assisting them through labor.
Once everything was all over, I could tell that Sarah was grateful for my presence and support during that whole process, and it was such a great feeling knowing that I was a comfort and support to her when she needed it. And one other exciting occurrence I forgot to mention was that earlier on in the day one of the nurses let me do a vaginal examination (VE) on Sarah to check her dilation. I had never done this before, and although I knew what I was SUPPOSED to be feeling for, I really had no idea of what it would really be like, so I couldn’t say what was actually going on in there, but practice makes perfect, and you have to start somewhere, so I was grateful for the opportunity to have that experience.
The following day was just as exciting, as I got to assist with two more deliveries. It was fascinating to be a part of this process and observe the way the nurses handle everything, because they are definitely not very into sympathy and gentle encouragement. Woman are expected to be strong and to know what to do and how they are to go through labor, so the nurses are pretty harsh with them. Although I’m sure this method has its merit within their mindset and culture, I was glad to be the one to provide a kind word, a hand and a smile, and leave the harsher encouragement to the Nigerian nurses.
The highlight of my day, my week, and actually one of the highlights of my entire trip, came on Wednesday when I went to visit Sarah and see how she and her baby were doing since the day before when I had helped her through her delivery. I walked onto the ward where she was staying, and she had a big smile on her face as I asked her how she was feeling and how her baby was. She looked 110% better than she had the day before, and she said she was feeling great. When I asked her if she had decided on a name for her baby she said, “No, not yet…but I think YOU should name him.” I was a little taken aback, and my first reaction was to say, “No, it’s your baby, I couldn’t possibly name him...you should be the one to name him.” But she insisted that she wanted me to do it, so I told her I’d have to think about it and get back to her. The rest of my afternoon was consumed by thoughts of baby names and trying to think of the perfect name for this woman’s baby. Most of their names are either tribal names (which I obviously would not know the first thing about) or Biblical names, so by default, I decided to go with a Biblical name. Also, the meanings of names are very important, so I wanted to make sure I knew the meaning before I decided on a name.
One of the names that I liked off the top of my head was Caleb, but since I found out through a Nigerian friend that they spell it Kaleb, say it differently, it is not a very common name, and I also didn’t know the meaning, I started looking for something else. When I opened up my Bible to see what I could find, I flipped right open to I Samuel and read the story of Hannah and how she prayed so fervently for a child, that when she finally had a baby boy she named him Samuel, which means Heard by God, saying “Because I asked the Lord for him.” Although a couple other names appealed to me, I didn’t look much further than that first passage, and even though I probably should have just gone with Samuel right off the bat, I am an indecisive person, and there is a lot of pressure having the responsibility of naming a child looming over me…I mean, I would hate for the child to grow up hating his name, or for it to be some awkward name that no one can pronounce right, SO I ended up deciding to give Sarah two options, Caleb (Kaleb) or Samuel, and let her decide between the two…and she chose Samuel. I can’t express what an honor it was to be a part of this process, and I hope I was able to bless Sarah and Samuel and much as they blessed me.
Wednesday was actually my last day in the hospital, because the rest of the week was filled with hanging out with people, taking care of business at the SIM office, debriefing, and getting ready to leave. Thursday was so much fun, as Alisha and I got to go to the market with Lyop (one of the “Aunties” from camp) and Nanfe and Nimchit (two girls that live on the Evangel compound that we had met through Lyop) to buy supplies for cooking our big Nigerian meal that night. We got them to teach us how to make Jelof rice, which is one of the very common dishes there, and I have to say, it was a fabulous meal, and such great fellowship. Alisha and I absolutely love those girls…they were so sweet, so much fun, and they made it so much harder to leave.
We actually spend most of Friday with Lyop and Nanfe as well, as they were the ones who braided our hair. Alisha and I had picked out extensions the day before (golden and brown for Alisha and red and brown for me), and then on Friday we officially became Nigerian. Although we were warned that it might take all day, it actually took about four hours to go through the whole braiding process, with a few breaks for food and photoshoots in between of course. Even though it was slightly painful, and a little weird getting used to at first, I have to say I’ve thoroughly enjoyed having long, red, braided hair, and it’s fun because they say it should last about two weeks…it was also interesting because we couldn’t tell as we walked around town the next couple days if we got more or less weird looks from the Nigerians for being “Baturi” with braided hair…I honestly think it made us stand out more.
Just as Friday night was our penultimate night, Saturday was our penultimate day, and I have to say, I started to feel the reality of the fact that I would be leaving soon, even though I was pretty much still in denial. Saturday flew by as Alisha and I visited all the different wards of the hospital, gave them all thank you notes, and visited for a little bit. We then had a final lunch with Tim and Dan before bidding them farewell as they took off for the airport. It wasn’t THAT hard of a goodbye, because they are actually going to visit us some time in early September as they will be traveling through the LA area, so that should be really fun. Later on that afternoon we did some last minute souvenir shopping, went to a salon with Nanfe and Lyop to get our nails done, and then had a final dinner with the Ardills. They are such a wonderful family and it was so great to be able to talk to Dr. Ardill about our trip and our thoughts on Nigerian nursing, getting his opinion and advice on things. Before we knew it we were packing up our bags and crawling into bed, getting underneath our mosquito nets for the last time in only God knows how long.
Sunday also flew by, and basically all we did was go to church and then do some last minute things around the compound, getting ready to go. Our driver picked us up around 2:00, we had a four hour drive into Abuja, and thus began our long journey home. From there it was basically a lot of flights, waiting for flights, interesting conversations on flights, and trying (and usually failing) to sleep through flights. We did have an interesting run-in with security at the airport in Abuja before leaving the country, but all was well once they searched our bags and concluded we were not dangerous criminals. In fact, most all of the male personnel we interacted with in the airport asked if we wanted to marry a Nigerian, which is actually a normal occurrence, but I’m sure the hair didn’t help the situation…in fact, one of them said to me, “I think you should marry a Nigerian, because I like your hairstyle.”
One difference in the trip back was that we stopped in Charlotte, North Carolina, for a day to go through a debrief at the SIM headquarters. Although we were pretty tired, and wishing we could be done traveling at that point, it was really great to see the headquarters and meet all the people at SIM who had been involved with our application process and all the details of planning and taking care of our trip. SIM is such an incredible organization, managed by such an amazing group of believers, and it was very beneficial to have that time to talk with some of the personnel and see first-hand how the organization is run.
After the day of debriefing in Charlotte we had about a five-hour flight into San Diego, and I have to say that everything felt a little surreal as I landed, got off the plane, went down the escalator toward the baggage claim, and found my family waiting at the bottom with a “Welcome Home Allison” banner, smiling, ready with a camera and open arms for me to be home. Alisha’s mom and younger sister were there as well, so we all exchanged hugs, took a few pictures, picked up our luggage, and headed out to our cars. Even though I’d been trying to prepare myself mentally to leave Alisha, it was definitely hard watching her walk off with her family. I knew it wouldn’t be THAT long until I would see her again, two weeks at the most, but when you’ve spent six weeks with someone by your side nearly 24-7, two weeks can seem like an eternity…I almost cried as we drove off.
It has now been two days since my return, and even though I have already begun wrestling through so many issues and lessons learned during my trip, God has just begun the process of truly impressing them upon my heart, fitting them into the context of daily life, and establishing a mindset of missions, service, and others-centeredness. It is going to take time, thought, prayer, sacrifice, humility, and daily surrender to allow everything I’ve experienced and learned to take root in my life. I know that it is going to take a while to adjust mentally and to find the balance of what mindsets I need to allow to stay the same, and what mindsets I need to change. I feel that my greatest struggle is going to be when it comes to judgment toward America and the American people. This judgment isn’t an outward emotion, or even a conscious inward emotion, but rather more in my subconscious, and something that I want to make an intentional effort to avoid. It is true that we are an incredibly blessed nation, and along with that a very materialistic nation, but I have no right to self-righteously look down on anyone for enjoying the blessings this life has to offer. As it says in Ephesians 4:2, “Accept life with humility and patience, making allowances for one another because you love one another.” I need to accept and understand that God works in everyone’s lives in different ways, and different times, and the greatest way I can show His glory and share His love is not by condemning, but by accepting people where they are at…by sharing my experiences and my excitement for what He has done in my life, not even necessarily expecting them to understand or join in that excitement, but seeking to exude a passion for missions and a joy of service that is contagious.
As I wrap up this final blog it is difficult to know what to say. I feel there is so much more I want to share, and yet I don’t have words to express it all. As much as I would love to still be in Nigeria right now, I thank God that He has a plan bigger and better than my own, and I know at the moment His plan involves me finishing school. I hope and pray that as I start up this fall semester, He will continue to work mightily in my life, using me to minister to and bless people around me. I want to be more intentional in my spiritual growth and more active in my seeking out opportunities to serve Him while at school. I want to continue working through and wrestling with issues of life, death, suffering, sacrifice, and service, never becoming complacent or comfortable with the way things are. I want to be a vessel of God’s grace and love no matter where I am, and I want to live in a way that brings Him pleasure. These past six weeks have taught me countless things, but one of the most important being that this life is short, and my God deserves every fiber of my being, every breath that I take, and every thought that enters my mind, to be glorifying to Him. He is faithful. He is victorious. He is patient. He is gentle. He is powerful. He is everything to me, and I am so grateful to be His child, and to have experienced what I have over the past six weeks…God bless Nigeria and its people…and God bless you for your prayers and support…they have blessed me more than I can say.
Holding Baby Samuel
Shopping with Nanfe and Nimchit at the market
Lyop and I...about to enjoy our amazing Nigerian meal
About half-way done with the hair...
All finished! Nanfe is the hair-stylist extraordinaire...I love this girl!
David was one of the ICU nurses...and I think Alisha and I would agree he was probably our favorite.
Being silly with the girls...we only spent about a week with her,but I miss Gemma already.
One final photoshoot in our front yard...
The sunset on the way to the airport...God's glorious goodbye
One last hug at the airport...I couldn't have asked for a better traveling companion, friend, encourager, adventurer, and sister in Christ to share this journey withTo all of you who have been so faithful to support me with your thoughts and prayers:
“I thank my God every time I remember you.
In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now….”
~ Philippians 1:3-5 ~
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