Remembrance

April 19, 1995....You know, some say you'll always remember where you were when national tragedy struck. I think that's quite true. On this date, people in Oklahoma City had awakened to a normal day of just going to work, going to school, going to pay bills, attend meetings...any one of a number of things in the daily grind.

Then came 9:01 AM...time stood still and the world came crashing down.




I was in music history class at Oral Roberts University in Tulsa, quite unaware of anything that was going on. However, a friend who was working 6 miles away felt the hospital she was working in shake, and my current midwifery preceptor remembers looking out the window in labor and delivery, no doubt seeing and perhaps feeling some of what was going on, since this hospital is only a 5-minute drive from the site.

It was Wednesday, and when I went to chapel that day, we were asked to pray for the people in Oklahoma City, because someone had blown up a day care center. That's all I knew until I went back to my apartment for lunch and turned on the midday TV news...and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I felt conflicted, because I had already heard of medical professionals driving into Oklahoma City from all over the state to offer help. I seriously considered going there, but realized I couldn't leave because of my school responsibilities. I spent many days consumed with keeping up via television and newspapers the unbelievable events as they unfolded. I didn't realize how long our flags in Oklahoma had been at half staff until I went home to North Carolina in June and saw the flags at full staff.

And Jesus wept....



Fast forward to April 19, 2009...Now, a quiet field of 168 chairs sits where the massive federal building was bombed, one chair for each person who was killed in the blast...smaller chairs for children who were lost to us and large chairs for the adults. The gates of time, the survivor tree (that refused to die though it was only a few feet from the blast), and a museum that tells the story of those tragic days...they're all there. People were lined up around the outside of the building waiting to gain admission.

"We come here to remember those who were killed, those who survived, and those changed forever. May all who leave here know the impact of violence. May this memorial offer comfort, strength, peace, hope, and serenity."

On this date, I caught baby #37 at 2 AM...I'm sure it was no accident that her name was Liberty, though I don't really think that her parents named her that because of anything connected with this day. I just think that liberty was to be the theme of this day, and this little girl's arrival was the dawn of this new day.

I had the privilege of playing harp on this date at the church that sits across from the memorial. The windows in the building were blown out that day, and ultimately, the church replaced the windows and built a beautiful new sanctuary joined to the old sanctuary. The church celebrated their 120th anniversary! It was a remembrance of joy incorporated into a day set aside to remember those who were lost to us on earth 14 years ago.

May God be strength and grant His healing power to those who lost their innocence and their loved ones on that dark day.

Well...Poo-ee on You-ee!

Last Monday, while I was awaiting the arrival of baby #32, I learned not to ever turn my back on a laboring woman...not even to put on sterile gloves!

I have always been amazed how many times labor nurses and midwives can say the word "push" in a single breath when coaching a laboring woman to push. It usually sounds like "push-push-push-push-push-push-push-push" and then starts again and continues through the contraction in the same fashion. Verbal coaching has always been something of a challenge to me, simply because I'm not naturally the cheerleader type, so I'm still working on finding my style in encouraging pushing.

This particular woman was Latina, so the pushing rules took on a bit of a new twist. The word for "push" is "empuje" (pronounced "em-POO-hay"). Obviously, you sure can't say that word 50 times really fast when coaching, so the labor nurse that was with us shortened the word to something sounding like "pui" (pronounced "POO-ee"). You can say that word lots of times in a single breath, so I heard, "pui-pui-pui-pui-pui-pui-pui-pui" again and again. In no time at all, I saw about a nickel-sized spot of baby scalp, and I turned to the delivery table behind me and started putting on my sterile gloves hurriedly while the preceptor of the day was on her way across the room to the bedside. I turned around on a dime and the baby was half-way out!! Shades of "Cannonball" (my first catch) -- this kid was in a hurry! I'm very thankful that the labor nurse was there to catch while I took only a few seconds to put on my gloves!

So...poo-ee on you-ee...lesson learned -- don't ever turn your back to a pushing woman!

Time for a Laugh: The Middle Wife

When I was a kid, I loved show-and-tell. So I always have a few sessions with my students. It helps them get over shyness and usually, show-and-tell is pretty tame. Kids bring in pet turtles, model airplanes, pictures of fish they catch, stuff like that. And I never, ever place any boundaries or limitations on them. If they want to lug it in to school and talk about it, they're welcome.

Well, one day this little girl, Erica, a very bright, very outgoing kid, takes her turn and waddles up to the front of the class with a pillow stuffed under her sweater. She holds up a snapshot of an infant. "This is Luke, my baby brother, and I'm going to tell you about his birthday. First, Mom and Dad made him as a symbol of their love, and then Dad put a seed in my Mom's stomach, and Luke grew in there. He ate for nine months through an umbrella cord." She's standing there with her hands on the pillow, and I'm trying not to laugh and wishing I had my camcorder with me. The kids are watching her in amazement.

"Then, about two Saturdays ago, my Mom starts going, 'Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh!'" Erica puts a hand behind her back and groans. "She walked around the house for, like an hour, 'Oh, oh, oh!'" (Now this kid is doing a hysterical duck walk and groaning.) "My Dad called the middle wife. She delivers babies, but she doesn't have a sign on the car like the Domino's man. They got my Mom to lie down in bed like this." (Then Erica lies down with her back against the wall.) "And then, pop! My Mom had this bag of water she kept in there in case he got thirsty, and it just blew up and spilled all over the bed, like psshhheew!" (This kid has her legs spread with her little hands miming water flowing away. It was too much!) "Then the middle wife starts saying 'push, push,' and 'breathe, breathe'! They started counting, but never even got past ten. Then, all of a sudden, out comes my brother. He was covered in yucky stuff that they all said was from Mom's play-center (placenta), so there must be a lot of toys inside there. When he got out, the middlewife spanked him for crawling up in there.

Then Erica stood up, took a big theatrical bow and returned to her seat. I'm sure I applauded the loudest. Ever since then, when it's show-and-tell day, I bring my camcorder, just in case another 'Middle Wife' comes along.