Born Again

I waited. My hot breath felt stuffy as it was trapped between my face and the surgical mask. Sweat beads rolled down my face because even in this air-conditioned operation room, it’s hard to keep things cool when it’s 115 degrees outside. A sterile cloth draped over my shoulders and covered my outstretched arms. I watched the surgeon cut the uterus, pull the wet baby out, cut the cord, and then turn around and place him in my arms. 

~~~

I sat on the end of the bed, gently coaching her as she pushed. She was a champ, granted it was her fourth pregnancy, but she still did practically everything on her own. I kept a hands-off approach until the head was born, and then I gently received the rest of the baby’s body and placed her gently on the bed. She was already crying at the top of her lungs, so I just wiped and dried her off and then put her on her mother’s chest. “Congratulations! You have a daughter.” 

~~~

No matter how many times I watch it and no matter how many times I assist it, birth is always a miracle to me. Nothing makes my adrenaline rush and my joy ignite than being with a mother when she gives birth. Being entrusted as the first hands to welcome a newborn baby into the world is a privilege and an honor. 

Just think about it. Lungs that were swimming in water suddenly inflate and convert to taking in oxygen. In a moment, the circulation connecting the mother to the baby through the placenta is cut off and the baby’s own heart takes over the entire responsibility of circulating life-giving blood and newly inspired oxygen. The body was cramped in a warm dark place, but is now exposed to light and cold harsh air. Eyes open and see for the first time. It’s actually incredible, breathtakingly awe-inspiring, and miraculous. 

And it’s amazing to me how natural it all is, meaning how often the birthing process requires no help or intervention from medical professionals. For example, I had a patient who was 32 weeks pregnant and possibly in preterm labor. She was only two centimeters dilated, so I was just keeping an eye on her and trying to calm her contractions with hydration and magnesium. I was sitting at the nurses’ desk when, from behind the privacy curtain, her water exploded and hit my feet. Ten seconds later, she gave birth, and I was the only one there to hear him come out crying. She never made a sound, and if I hadn’t been sitting there when her water broke and shot six feet across the room to hit my shoes, she would have done the whole thing entirely on her own. By God’s grace, that 32 weeker cried vigorously and needed very little extra help from me or the pediatrician who came quickly to my aid. 

And I just realized how miraculous every birth is, especially when you are expecting complications and your preterm baby comes out screaming and breathing like a term cookie. 

Although most births are uncomplicated and “hands-off”, sometimes its dangerous and can’t be done alone. Like when I caught that baby in the operating room in a sterile towel and noticed how he wasn’t breathing, how his arms were floppy and his lips pale. I stimulated and listened to his heart, which was beating too slowly. With oxygen, I pumped a few breaths into his lungs and listened as his heartbeat immediately elevated in response. After just one minute of supplementing oxygen, he began breathing on his own, and he cried hard to prove it. 

This, too, is a miracle: how sometimes babies don’t breathe on their own, and how a few simple measures perk them right up. Without these simple things, babies who are born at home can die in route to the hospital, like one that we received last week because the family couldn’t find transportation to the hospital in time. 

The whole process of birth fascinates and enthralls me every time, and although it may seem strange to many, it causes me to worship. God created the womb and invented the nine month process of preparation and development. It is he who created and knitted together each little one. It is he who brings them out of the dark, warm womb and into bright life and light.

It reminds me that the same God who brings to the point of delivery is birthing new things in me. 

The Bible talks a lot about birth and being born again. New lungs, new circulation, new life. A total change. A miracle. It’s all a picture of what God does in us when we believe in him. That’s why it’s called being “born again”. For we come out of darkness and into real life. We get new air in our lungs and a beat in our hearts, and we are born into God’s family. We are welcomed into his arms as his sons and daughters. 

The birthing process also is not only a picture of what God did once and for all who believe, but it is also an ongoing reminder of the process of sanctification - how God is constantly making us new and changing us to be more like him. He is always birthing new things in us. And just like the nine months of development and preparation, these things take time. The birthing process is hard. But the pain and waiting is worth it when new life bursts forth, when fresh breaths are taken and oxygen fills the lungs for the first time, and we come alive again. 

~~~

I know God led me here to this hospital for such a time as this. I see how stepping stones that began back in July of last year have brought me here. 

A strange, unwanted awareness that I would be leaving Burkina. 

Events unfolding that revealed why I couldn’t stay. 

Searching for other opportunities in west Africa. 

Doors closing and other doors opening. 

Finding out about this hospital and choosing to come her for six weeks as an “in between” thing. 

Being exposed to the great nursing need and loving the work and being invited to stay. 

I look back at all these things that didn’t make sense at the time and I see a meandering path of stepping stones that brought me right here. I asked God to teach me more about how to be a nurse and an evangelist this year. The opportunities abound for both of those things right here. As I catch babies every day, I sense God birthing something new in me. 

I’m not writing this to solicit an “oh I’m so happy for you” response. Nor is this a promise that everything will always be peachy and God always gives us what we want. What I didn’t have space to write about was the struggle with the unknown. The tears. The waiting. The uncertainty. The hard goodbyes. Disconnecting from one place and starting all over in a new place. No, it hasn’t been easy. But this is a testimony of how God is a good shepherd who guides his sheep when they surrender to his rod and his staff. The path is a windy one and narrow, but it leads to green pastures and still waters. It is full of rocks, but those rocks that we fear will trip us become stepping stones. And the pain is actually causing something new to be born.