The Birth Story - Part Two

Early on Christmas morning, I was abruptly woken up at 2:30am to a terrible feeling. My water had broken. And it had broken hard. No trickle here, it was a flood. I jumped up immediately, crying out to God "Please, God, no. Please let this not be happening. Maybe it's something else. Please God no." But it was not something else, my water had indeed broken. I immediately panicked. This was WAY too early. I wasn't even 32 weeks along yet. There was no way Julia would survive this. I was in a third world country with medical services severely lacking. We had planned on delivering in Kenya where the medical services are better. To make matters worse, George was in Kenya at this moment. 12 hours drive away. And I was alone. In my house at 2:30 am. With Eli. No car. Water broken. I knew this baby would come fast. Eli came 3 hours after my water broke. I began rushing around the house, not sure what to do. I tried calling George, but he did not answer. I tried calling my good friends (and neighbors) and no one answered. I really needed them to answer because I knew they would watch Eli for me and take me to the hospital. But NO ONE was answering their phones. Plus I was running out of phone credit. Soon it would be gone and I would have no way to get help. I decided someone in the US needed to know what was happening and needed to get the word out for immediate prayer. So, my friend Traci was the lucky recipient of a horrible phone call. I was hysterical.... crying... saying "my water broke.... George is in Kenya... this is too early... the baby won't make it.... I can't find anyone to help me get to the hospital.... I don't know what to do... I have no phone credit... please have people pray...." Poor Traci couldn't get any words in. I just knew my credit was minutes from being gone.

George and my friends still weren't answering so I tried calling George's family members in Kenya hoping someone was with him and no one answered! Finally an hour after my water broke, I reached someone who was staying in the same house as George. Poor George got hysterical Stacie too. He said "calm down" and I screamed "I AM CALM!" He began calling people and finally found someone to take me to the hospital. She arrived at 4:00am and we left with Eli in tow. We drove to my friends house down the street and began banging on their gate and honking the horn. Finally they came out and took Eli for me.

We took off for the hospital, racing over speed bumps and once we flew so hard over one my head slammed in the roof . Mama Carlton (the neighbor who took me to the hospital) was a blessing from God. She had delivered at this hospital (KCMC) and took over things for me. I was sent to the labor ward where I was checked out. Exams proved I was not dilated at all, but it was confirmed my water broke. An ultrasound was done right away and we saw that the baby was fine for now, but was only 31 weeks and 5 days of gestation. There was no stopping this delivery, it would be happening soon.

With the help of a few doctors a plan was made to put me on bed rest with the hope we could delay the delivery for 48 hours. In order to give the baby a better chance of survival, I would need to receive four steroid shots spaced twelve hours apart each. Those shots would help the baby's underdeveloped lungs. However, if I began to have contractions, I would have to deliver immediately. Not only would it be immediate, it would be a c-section because the baby was breech. Even if she wasn't, she could not handle the stress of a normal birth. In addition, I was hooked up to IVs and began several antibiotic treatments per day which would last the entire 10 days I was in the hospital. When the water breaks and delivery is delayed, both the mom and baby are vulnerable to infection so they hoped to head that off.

And so, I stayed in the hospital and began praying I would not have contractions. I was so skeptical about this because I had contractions right away after Eli's water broke. But, I decided to pray and hope.

Meanwhile, George, who had just arrived in Kisumu a few hours before, got on the road to get back to Moshi. Wouldn't you know it... trouble began right away for him. As he filled up the car with gas, the attendant filled the tank with diesel which is not what our car takes. So, he had to spend a few hours draining and fixing the car. The sad thing is this happened to us in August too! So frustrating. Poor George was so stressed and trying to rush back to Moshi and this happened. Fortunately, this was the only problem he had on the road this time.

Back in Moshi, I was in the hospital, feeling scared and alone. I was so scared for Julia and so worried about George and Eli. Eli has never been apart from me... ever. So I knew this would be hard on him. I knew he was in good hands with our friends. He knows and loves them and their son, so I knew he was ok. He celebrated Christmas with them and had a nice day. He broke down at bedtime, but was able to calm down and sleep.

I wasn't alone in the hospital for very long. George had called up the Kenyan Brigade. That is what I call the group of Kenyans who have befriended each other in Moshi. They have formed a tight group and are always there to help each other out. So while, George was gone, he knew they would take care of me. Throughout the day, so many people showed up to see me. One guy said "I am here to make sure you have a private room and have money to pay the bills." I had already taken care of those things, but I appreciated his willingness to help. Others came to see how I was doing and make sure I was ok. Some were hospital employees and were making sure I had the best care. Our good friend is the chief of the OB/GYN department of KCMC, but was in Kenya when this all went down. He is the mentor and teacher to all the doctors in that department so he called in making sure I was ok and the doctors were doing the right thing. I was well taken care of in George's absence. Not only the Kenyan Brigade showed up, but many of our Tanzanian friends as well.

I had all my physical needs met, but I was a wreck emotionally. I was terrified. I knew I was in a third world country with very limited resources so I knew what was ahead of me. I had several sobbing breakdowns and just cried it all out. I turned to God, the only source of peace at that point. My situation was bad. God was all I had.

With each hour that passed, I thanked God contractions had not started. I really needed those four steroid shots for Julia's lungs. Every time I got a shot, I knew we were closer to her delivery. I was so relieved when late Christmas night, George arrived safe. I felt better knowing he was here.

The next day, we again had to get the shots and pray for no contractions. I was so happy to get each injection, although they were the most painful shots I have ever had. Throughout the day, we did ultrasounds and checked Julia's heart rate to make sure she was ok. I was still losing lots of amniotic fluid. I continued to get visitors during the day, many I didn't know, but they knew George. I was touched by how many people cared for me, because they care for George and wanted to help us.

By 8:30pm, I got the last shot, so relieved labor hadn't started. Around 10:30, we did an ultrasound and the doctor said, we have to take her out now. So away I went to get a c-section and meet my baby girl.

Stay tuned for Part Three.... Julia's Arrival....