Surprise! Baby! number two

"Finally the powers on! Three days is just ridiculous." I grab my empty glass and head back to the kitchen for some more juice. The last night we had carried the t.v. over to the empty neighbours house so we could watch CSI. The things I have to suffer through over here.
I glimpse at the slightly ajar door and then turn into the kitchen of our small apartment when suddenly I jumped at a small moving mass on the floor. Frozen for a moment, my brain registers what it's looking at. And then I burst out laughing, "Ummm there's a bunch of chickens in the kitchen,"
"What?" I heard my aunt call from the sitting room.
"Yeah, there's 12 baby chickens in your kitchen."
It took us a while to heard them all out the door but finally cheapers were all back outside. Paul, our friendly, farming neighbour, seemed to have a very busy group of chickens.
"No wonder that roosters been so excited lately."

Traffic.

I cough and wipe my watering eyes as a dump truck belches a cloud of dark smoke from its muffler right where I stand. I scowel in his general direction as he speeds off in a great hurry, leaving a trail of opaque pollution. I continue on my walk trying to recompose myself and enjoy the beautiful morning. HONK! I jump pracitcally into a bush as a noisy matatu rumbles up from behind and the tote waves frantically out the side door. I shake my head with an expression that cleary said "look bud, if I wanted a ride I would have flagged YOU down! Not the other way around!!" But, taking the culture in mind, he probably thought I was commending him on spotting me. I shake the wrinkles out of my clothes and take a deep breath. I boldly take another step and think, 'I am going to enjoy this walk,' and my foot is met by a squishy pile of cow dung. I look incredulously at the Masia sitting under the closest tree watching his herd of cows wander aimlessly across the busy street. I walk away grumbling and shuffling the nice gift off my shoe when suddenly I yelp and grab my foot dancing around on the other. After plucking the 2 inch-long thorn from the sole of my shoe I decide that I had better start back home. 'It's a miserable day anyways' I think, as I walk three steps back to my drive way.

Surprise! Baby!

The day started off much like all the other days in Kenya start. I rolled out of bed, brushed my teeth, mused about going back to bed, had a cup of coffee then settled down in my rocking chair. I was planning on meeting Janice at the Thogotto junction and then walking up to the Kikuyu hospital where we would then meet Rebecca and William and discuss William’s case. And as I sat rocking in my chair with cup of coffee in hand my mind failed to foresee how drastically my day was about to change. The cellphone buzzed on the table beside me indicating a text message. It was Janice telling me that she had had a rough night and would be a little late. I sighed; late can mean anything from an hour to a week with these people. 2 hours later I watch the very pregnant Janice walked slowly towards the fruit stand where I was waiting. I knew right away that something was very wrong with her. Usually she has her huge characteristic smile with a witty phrase waiting on her lips when she first meets me. Today she was holding her belly and looking quite sombre. Then the next warning sign, she wanted to take a matatu to the hospital. Usually Janice says something like “It’s only a short distance, we should walk,” even if it’s six miles. I started inquiring about Janice’s pains and she told me that it was her lower abdominal. The baby wasn’t due for another month so we decided that it would be a good idea for a check-up once we got to the hospital. I asked her when the pain started. Then, after she told me that they had started last evening, I asked her if she had felt the baby kick since then. My heart sank as she said no, it had not. My mind frantically went into panic mode as it tried to prepare itself for handling a mother with a miscarriage.

When we arrived at the hospital Janice was in real pain and was doubling over every few minutes. I’ll fast forward a few details to the part where we finally got into the ultra sound room and, miracles of miracles, they found a teeny tiny heartbeat. About an hour later we were back outside sitting on a curb pondering what to do next. “Janice, I think you’re going to have a baby.” “No, I just need some pain medication. Then I’ll go home and rest.” I’ll fast forward a little more to the part where we were taking a taxi to a different hospital. My hand was buried deep inside the crushing fist of a labouring mother. “So why are we going to this hospital?” “Because I’ll lose my job if we go back to the Kikuyu hospital since I bypassed the system,” said Evelyn, an employee of Kikuyu hospital and good friend. Fast forward again, Evelyn is shaking my hand and telling me she must go back to work. The doctor comes out from examining Janice and says “Yep, the baby will come around three o’clock.” I chuckled. It sounded as if he was talking about delivering a baby.

Fast forward. I’m holding Janice’s hand and rubbing her back as she lays on a hospital bed in a pink gown. “Did you call anyone yet?” “Yes, but they won’t be her until later.” She moans and my fingers crack painfully. Then she starts to heave and I reach for the bucket for her to puke in. Some splashes onto my shirt.

Fast forward. I stagger wide eyed into the waiting room to meet Hannah and Lois who had been writing at a coffee shop when I called for them. I jabber out some strange un-thought answers to their questions. Hannah follows eagerly after me into the pre-labour ward. My aunt had suggested that we ask to suit up and go in with Janice while she delivers. His answer is a friendly “yes” and then we’re quickly ushering Janice into the labour ward. “spread this for me!” says the doctor handing me a sheet and I ran ahead spreading it on the bed where, in mere minutes, human life would splash upon.

Fast forward. Hannah is staggering out of the room and then collides with the door jamb weak kneed. The Doctor pulls his fingers from Janice (too much information) and rushes to catch Hannah as well as the one and only nurse present. I follow so that the doctor can go back to attend the moaning Janice who is in mid-contraction. “Doctor, come back to meeee!” I laugh about it now haha

Hannah was a trooper, after getting some air she managed to come back in time for the crowning. I witnessed the whole thing directly. The slimy little creature came sliding out into the gloves of the doctor and had a healthy first breath and cry. Then the blue cord was snipped and a few minutes later out came the placenta. The baby was beautiful: open eyed, of natural colour and truly looked intelligent rather than those new borns you see that are shrivelled and squirming, horrified that they have gone through some kind of invasive exodus into a less squishy and warm world.

I wander out of the hospital sporting stains of sweat, vomit and embryonic fluid satisfied and amazed. How can such a treacherous, nasty process seem so beautiful? I suppose the doe-eyed little baby laying in the make-shift incubator helps a little. The ruggedness of the small Kenyan hospital and the casualness of the doctor and nurse seemed to make the whole situation even more wonderful.

Kimberly is thriving and adorable, gaining weight and eating normally. We are hoping that since we were the first faces that Kimberly saw upon her arrival, she won't be terrified of white people when she's older.