Mtoto Mzuri

Eventful first week in the clinic and I’m still surprised to find myself shocked at the health care here. I was horrified to find that the sheets were never changed, as currently there's only one set per bed. Most sheets were bloodstained; this explains why women have to bring their own wraps to lie on. Speaking of blood, it’s absolutely everywhere. Sheets, delivery instruments, the wall behind the birthing bed!? It’s become somewhat of a crusade to remove the stains. This is not aided when I found out that instruments are wrapped BEFORE they’re sterilized! How this even makes the slightest sense is unknown.

Anika and I tried to inconspicuously ask the head midwife what the clinic needs most, and she was very clear – gloves, gloves, sheets and gloves. Oh and an incubator. In an effort to prove that sheets were a necessary item, we Spring cleaned all 20 beds with chlorine, and judging by the thick layer of grime, this may have been the first time. Word spread quickly of our willingness to donate, so we were pounced upon by the doctor and taken (via ambulance) to the pharmacy to buy supplies. A box of 400 gloves is $5 USD here, so thanks to everyone who helped us fundraise, our money goes a long way!

So highlights of the past few days…

·      Handover between shifts is such a great learning opportunity for us and the midwives. The doctor drills everyone, and despite the midwives being fantastic at their roles, their theoretical knowledge is somewhat lacking on even basic midwifery care. They had no idea why to give medication apart from “policy,” and were unable to distinguish between the different stages of labour.

•       I asked to assist with vaccinations one morning, and was firmly told not to touch anything. However as the days have gone on I have administered oral polio vaccines – baby steps.
•       Mobile phones have top priority here; the best example I have is a midwife asking me to hold her phone to her ear whilst delivering a placenta.
•       Also caught a brief glimpse of Mt Meru Hospital, a large government hospital where we refer patients for c-sections, inductions and for possible complications – the most common being “big baby.”
•       Witnessed a baby being born in a car which was pretty exciting. After swaddling the baby, Anika commented that the baby (born with meconium) sounded like it needed to be suctioned, so the midwife set us up and left us to our own devices. I think we only stimulated the baby to cough up a lot, but the midwife basically told his mum that ‘mzungos saved your baby’ so we received some (undeserved) praise.

Today Anika and I each delivered a baby, mine to a gorgeous young mum called Happy (pictured). The bub was the tiniest I’ve ever delivered at 2.7kg – no specific expected due dates here, but the little man did brilliantly. Also the first baby I’ve witnessed to be born "in the caul" still surrounded by membranes, despite midwives telling me she was definitely rupture of membranes? With my limited Swahili, I’ve learned to say mvulana (boy), misichana (girl) mtoto mzuri (beautiful baby) and hongera (congratulations) and this is more than enough to get smiles from new mums.

I adore it here beyond belief, these women are champions to labour so steadily without even a hint of panadol and such sweethearts!