I was walking down toward the hospital when I noticed some commotion near the OB room. As I drew closer I saw a bamboo and thatch stretcher lying outside. I walked into the delivery room as Solomon (one of our midwives) was turning on the vacuum machine. “I’m delivering a still born. I know that you are not supposed to use vacuum for these cases, but the head is crowning and mom is exhausted”. The other nurses explained that the mom had been in labor for 3 days and had not felt the baby move in nearly a week. Finally today her family decided to bring her to us. It was clear that she was seriously ill and that the amniotic fluid was severely infected. There had not been a heartbeat on the nurse’s exam. As Solomon finally got the head out I saw a perfectly formed little face and was so sad that the mother had to go through all of this; laboring for days to deliver a baby she knew was dead.
Solomon delivered the baby and held it upside down to cut the cord. Suddenly, one of the eyelids twitched. Then the eye opened. “The baby’s not dead!” Kari cried. We rushed the baby to the table and began rubbing and suctioning her, but she still wasn’t breathing. The nurses grabbed the resuscitation mask and began to use the hand pump to help her breath. As we were checking her we noticed large purple and red marks on both side of her ribs. The skin around was stretched and buckled. The marks looked like scars, but from what? And the fact that there were scars meant that whatever it was happened some time ago. Clearly this little one had had a rough few months.
After a few minutes the baby started breathing on her own, but it was very rapid. She and the mother were admitted to the hospital; the baby on oxygen and both on strong antibiotics. We left for the night not knowing if she would still be there in the morning.
The next morning during rounds the baby was lying on the bed next to the mother. She was clearly hungry. We told mom to breast feed her more, but mom just looked away. We asked her what was wrong and she replied that she did not want to put the baby to her breast because she was afraid it would die. She kept staring at the baby’s scars. She didn’t want to get attached. We tried to explain to her that while there was a chance that the baby would die, if she didn’t feed her it would be a certainty. The mother wouldn’t listen. Fortunately, we had a secret weapon . . . grandma. The baby’s grandmother spent the next week by the bedside ensuring that the baby got what it needed. She would physically hold the baby to the mother to make sure she was feeding. After a few days the mother seemed to soften a little and started to feed the child without coercion. Then she began to hold the baby and play with her.
After a week, both mom and baby were done with IV antibiotics and the baby was able to breathe without oxygen. We didn’t really know what would happen with the baby, but we had done all that we could and they were ready to get home. On the morning they were preparing to leave we asked what they were going to name the baby. The mother smiled and replied “Asayech”, which means “mirror image” because the mom though the baby looked just like her.
Incredible!! Did you ever find out what the rib injuries were from?
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