Welcome Home!

Marie carried her own baby like this for most of the trip.  Like Mama.

Wow.  What a crazy last  couple of days!!!  Thank you so much for all of your prayers for our trip back to Salone!  The trip was awesome!  Marie watched movies for hours and was thrilled with the fun meals and snacks she got on the plane.  She’s always travelled well, so the real question mark was Ben.  But he did great!  Slept for most of the time which allowed mommy to even get in a few winks!  Thank you so much for praying.

I wish I could describe my awe and thankfulness when we walked into our house Thursday night.  When we left, our house was just the bombed out remnants of a house that once was.  We were just planning on being gone for 2 months so we put all our belongings in the center of the house and covered it with tarps.  Should be fine for 2 months.  But then we ended up being back in the States for almost a year and a half!  You pack a little differently when you’re planning on returning in 2 months. You save things that you might not have saved for 1 ½ years. Yikes.   The other missionaries that live on the compound also left (or stayed in the States) because of the Ebola outbreak and although they tried to put keep all of our stuff protected, there was just no way with the way we packed and with the things we left in our boxes.  

That’s where my angels come in. Two of our missionary couples spent HOURS getting our house ready for us.  Not only did they have a huge part in overseeing and helping with the construction, but when it came time to go through our MESS, they rolled up their sleeves and worked their hineys off.  I don’t want to gross you out too much so let’s just say that some of our clothes had to be thrown away because the rats ate too much of them.  There was one box that was in the corner that, when opened, had maggots in it.  MAGGOTS!  I mean….that’s love right there.  And you would NEVER know it!! When we walked into our house it was spotless.  Our bunk beds and cribs were put together, our solar fridge was fixed, our cabinets were installed, our mosquito nets were hung, towels in the bathroom, I could go on and on.  Perfect!! I still keep finding things that were done for us.  I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay that kindness.  Courtneys and Campbells…..THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!

I was DREADING the jet lag with the kiddos but I think it's been the best of any returning trip!!  Marie and I did have one girls night from about 12am-3 where she got to watch movies and I unpacked boxes.  But only one of those nights?? I'll take it! 

So for the last few days I’ve been trying to get everything organized.  We have everything from Peter’s and my separate households when we were living in Sierra Leone before we were married, the 8 suitcases that we brought with us, along with all of the things that we sent ahead of us on the container.  It’s a lot of stuff. A lot.  Even though our house feels like a MANSION compared to the camper that we were living in, there is some serious “whittling” going on. (Like whittling things down.)  I'm not sure if that's a real term or if I just made it up.    

Ben's pretty much just hanging out as usual.  Although he seems to wear fewer clothes here.....

Marie is having a great time playing with her friends here at the damsite.  The day we got here one of the dogs on the compound had puppies so the kids have had a fun time peeking in on mom and her eight puppies!!  (I thought one was hard enough!)  She’s so thankful to be back and just told me that tomorrow her black friend is going to come over to play. J She became friends with one of our security guard’s daughters at the end of our time last year and although she told me that she’s nervous that her friends will laugh at her because she doesn’t speak krio anymore, she’s been practicing it on everyone she can.  J  

This one is specifically for Nana.  She wanted you to see her eating a fish head.  This was not allowed when Nana was around in the States. :)

My unpacking and organizing took a turn when we realized the severity of the flooding that has recently occurred in Freetown.  Apparently the majority of the flooding happened while we were in the air. The last report I heard was 30,000 people were sleeping in the biggest stadium in Freetown because their houses were washed away.  The pictures are just incredible.  Fortunately, when we were in the States my husband never let me take anything to Goodwill. Since we were sending a container I constantly heard “Emily, you can’t get rid of that.  Someone in Sierra Leone will want that.”  One of the pastors that we work with had his retaining wall wash away but his house was spared.  His neighbors were not so lucky.  Many of them are sleeping in his house.  We started going through all of our container boxes looking for tall the extra stuff we had.  These people have lost everything!!  The rain has stopped and we’re praying it stays dry!

Overall we're doing really well! Peter is staying busy and after a year of pretty much being together all the time, it's weird having him go to work every day! But after being bored stiff sitting around all day in the States, I know he's excited to be working again!  The other night was pretty emotional as some of my inevitable homesickness started sinking in.  But as I started down the road of woe is me, I forced myself to stop and think.  My first year here was probably one of the hardest of my life.  So many changes, so much death, so much feeling like an outsider.  But when I think back on that first year, a lot of those difficulties fade away and I remember it with fondness because that was one of the years I grew fastest in my faith. My relationship with Jesus became so much sweeter, so much deeper, because my circumstances drove me to my knees.  This year has that potential. We're living in a new environment, (relatively) new marriage, new baby, new homeschooling, etc.  I know that I'll be faced with many choices about choosing self pity vs. thankfulness.  So if you're wondering about things you can pray for, that would be one for me! I know that my attitude and mood can set the tone for the entire family and I desperately want to have an attitude of "considering it pure joy!"  

Everybody load up!! It's time to go!

It's 5:30am here.  We're going to Sierra Leone in 2 days!!!  I just had one of those nights where you toss and turn all night because your brain just refuses to stop running.  Thankfully, Ben woke up early and put me out of my misery.  This is part of the reason for my "no brain shut off."  Lots left to do!

This is our "packing room."  It's become our "dumping room."  Oops.

I remember when I was single and every time I went somewhere I was pretty much packed a week before my trip.  I would actually end up having to UNpack because I jumped the gun and needed things that I had already packed away.  We're moving to Sierra Leone for several years in 2 days.  Want to guess how many of our 7 bags I have packed right now?  Hint:  Less than one.

In two days our family is embarking on our next great adventure.  I've begun doing all of my "lasts."  Last time I'll do this, last time I'll see this person, last time I'll eat that.  Incidentally even my husband has been Americanized a bit.  Last week we were driving by some corn fields and he said, "Oh that corn!  I'm going to miss that sweet corn!  *pause*  And microwaves.  I'm going to miss our microwave." :)

It's been a long season of waiting and we are so excited to take this next step.  I lay awake thinking about all the different opportunities we're going to have while we're over there.  I'm excited to get to watch my husband take on this new challenge of his job.  I think about expanding the well drilling and the Bible Institute and am so antsy to get back!  And honestly, I'm excited to be settled somewhere!  Do a little nesting!  We have been SO blessed to get to live cheap by staying in a camper in my parents' backyard for the last several months   But...it's a weekend camper.  No space to hang the family photos.  Last night I spent an hour picking out material to make curtains for our new house.  After making a decision that I'm fairly certain would end up on a "pintrest fail" website with colors and patterns being all crazy, I proceeded to buy some "no sew" stuff because.....who am I kidding.  If I have to sew those curtains by hand they're never going to get done.

There are of course times when I get emotional thinking about all the people we're leaving behind.  That's always the hardest part.  The people.  Last week I was sorting through a bunch of our stuff and stumbled upon some notes that people sent while I was in the process of getting custody of Marie.  I started crying.  (Obviously.  That's what I do.)  It was so sweet to remember all the people that supported me during that time.  However,  the thing that resonated with me the most was how much Jesus loves me.  He has used so many people to remind me of that fact.  My world is changing so much.  Even though I've lived over there for years, going over there as a wife and mom of 2 (one of them being a baby...a tiny little baby just waiting for me to "break" him) seems so new.  So different. So many more things to think about. It's easy for fear to begin to wedge it's way into my heart and mind and threaten to take my joy.  But when I think about Jesus and the fact that even though I'm leaving a lot of my security in the States, I'm not going alone but with an incredible Helper, I have peace.  And joy!  So much joy!

Thank you for being a part of that!  The Lord has used so many of you to remind me that we're not alone and that He will provide what we need, wherever we are.  

Go Fight Win Team!!!!

Last week I got to fulfill a 2-3 year long dream of mine by fulfilling a lifelong dream that my husband….may or may not have known he had.  I’ve never really been much of a sports fan, but when I started dating Peter I was introduced to soccer.  The world’s favorite sport.  In an effort to foster an interest in what “some” might call the world’s slowest moving sport (I mean… 90+ minutes with a score of 0-0?)  I asked about his favorite team.  The Tottenham Hotspurs.  Actually, his choice in teams made me like him a little more.  I knew nothing about Tottenham but when he told me one of the reasons he liked them was because they weren’t the most popular team with the most money, I found in him a kindred spirit.  I haven’t watched a full baseball game in years but still have an unexplained LOATHING for the NY Yankees.  I love the underdogs. 

As we started to get ready for our first trip back to the States the thought crossed my mind, “Wouldn’t that be awesome if, during our layover in London we could go see a Tottenham game?!?!?!”  Peter just loves this team!!!  After my first visit home without him I bought him a study Bible and a Tottenham hat.  He literally told me “Emily, it’s like you know my soul.”  Last Christmas I got him a Tottenham jersey and my quiet, softspoken husband turned into a giddy kid again when he saw what it was.  Tickets to a game would just be awesome!

But as I investigated, it was too complicated.  We would need visas for Marie and Peter to be able to leave the airport, even for 24 hours.  This mean application, interview (which was 7 hours away) and several hundred dollars.  Then we needed a hotel, transportation, etc (as well as paying quite a bit for a ticket that a six year old would really not be able to appreciate....and would probably be asking to leave about 20 min. in). 

Then I found out about international friendly games!!! And last summer I found out that Tottenham was playing Seattle IN SEATTLE on July 13!  Unfortunately I found this out on July 16^th.  SO BUMMED!!!!  So when I realized we were going to be here again this summer I started looking around.  And sure enough! Tottenham was playing in the US again!  But it was in Denver.  I calculated it out and just couldn’t justify spending that kind of money…on a soccer game.  But then my sister moved to New Mexico.  And she’s about to deliver her third baby. And she doesn’t know anyone in New Mexico.  Which means….either she’ll deliver her baby alone while her husband stays at home with the kids, or she’ll bring her 2 and 4 year old to her delivery.  Neither sounded like great options. 

So Peter and I talked about it and decided to drive down to New Mexico so we could be there to watch her kiddos when her “time came.”  And wouldn’t you know….their town in NM is a mere 7 hour drive from Denver. And the dates were just about perfect.  So Peter’s Anniversary/Fathers Day present….tickets to a Tottenham game. My crazy, AWESOME,  9 month pregnant sister said she'd keep BOTH our kids for us.

This was Peter's reaction when I told him "Show me how excited you are!!"  It's his impression of "jazz hands."  Also, he said he was showing that the score was going to be 5-0.

We got to the stadium just a little early....

The Tottenham Hotspurs vs. the MSL All-Stars.  When I bought the tickets I called the stadium to find out where the "other" team fans sit.  Tottenham fans were VASTLY outnumbered....but they were rowdy! I never knew that there were team songs, team chants, etc.  But we heard it all!  At a very loud decibel!! Many times!!  At some point during all the singing and clapping, Peter came out of the bathroom laughing because a rather intoxicated man in the bathroom was proudly yelling that he was "peeing with no hands" so he could continue the clapping during the chant.  Oh sports fans.....

The All-Stars got the first point.

But then we scored!!!

Unfortunately Tottenham wasn't able to pull off the win and we lost 2-1.  But it was a good game and we made some good memories!  Thanks for keeping the kids Lis!!  New Baby can come any time now!!!

Heavy Heart Today.....

I got on today to write a blog about a soccer game that Peter and I just went to.  I couldn’t do it. My heart was too heavy and my mind racing with all that I’ve been seeing on the news lately.  Abortion.  It’s everywhere.  Honestly, I have no new insights. I feel like everything’s been said. Over and over.  I only have my own thoughts that have been turning in my mind.  For the past several days my thoughts have turned to “where do I fit in this discussion?  Where am I culpable?” 

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how best to “speak out.”  I have many friends that have had abortions and, whether or not they have any remorse, I hate the thought of pouring salt in any wounds.  I think about Jesus and His Grace and how much he passionately loves these women and I don’t want my words to hurt.  But then I think about the babies.  I think about Jesus and His Grace and how much he passionately loves these little ones that He knit together in their mother’s womb….and I don’t want to remain silent on their behalf.

I started thinking about standing before God one day.  I started thinking about questions that He might ask.  “Emily. This was going on.  The thousands of babies that were being killed every year….what did you do?”  And other questions that I might be asked started coming into my mind. 

My answers weren’t pretty.

Emily when you were in high-school and a girl got pregnant….what did your church community do?  What did YOU do?  If a girl in your youth group got pregnant and decided not to have an abortion, how would she have felt? Would she have felt loved and supported or would she have felt judged and rejected?  Oh GOD I know my answer!!  I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face with the weight of my conviction.  The ugliness of my self-righteousness and judgmental heart.  Should the “easier” choice be abortion because the thought of walking through the doors of a church and seeing the stares…is too much to bear?

I say this about myself.  I know countless people in our churches who are reaching out to these girls, these women. I have friends who are babysitting their babies while they go to school, collecting baby supplies. They’ve spent their weekends and summers creating fun experiences for foster children.  Some have taken these kids into their homes and some have adopted.  There are people that are doing things!! 

But it seems like we, as a church, should be doing more.  Yes.  People need to know the truth.  They need to know that the “clump of cells” in fact has a heartbeat and a brain and all the other aspects that make a person a “person.”  He needs time and nourishment….just like my little premie boy needed when he was born too early.  He needed time and food to help him grow.  He just did it in the hospital instead of inside my womb. 

But the Truth doesn’t end with what abortion is.  The Truth of God’s Grace should change everything.  His Grace calls us to live radically!!  To spend our lives for the lives of others.  Honestly, I’m not really sure what my point is here.  I guess it’s just that choosing life is hard!!  Pregnancy is hard.  Giving up a baby for adoption is hard.  Being a single mom is hard.  It will always be the harder option.  But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t right.  And as the Church we are called….I am called to come alongside these women and love them radically….the way that He does.  Lord, thank you for your Grace which covers MY multitude of sins.  May it be my great motivator to love and care for the ones that you so passionately love.  Inside and outside of the womb.  

Happy Anniversary to Us!!!

On June 28^th, Peter and I celebrated our first anniversary.  A whole year. Wow.  Newlyweds, Ebola, pregnancy, NICU….quite the year we’ve had.  I had a romantic getaway planned for his return from Sierra Leone but that got nipped in the bud with the surprise delivery of our son.  The maternity dress that I spent about an hour debating whether or not to buy to look cute when I picked him up from the airport (as cute as a 9 month pregnant lady can look….I mean….let’s be honest) remains unworn in my closet.  Along with my maternity swim suit.  Maybe next time…..

Our anniversary came and went with little fanfare as we were still busy figuring out this whole “newborn” thing.  So when my mom gave us the opportunity to use a family friend’s timeshare at the coast for a couple nights as a belated anniversary present, we jumped at the chance. Especially since she volunteered to keep BOTH of our kiddos!!  While Peter was in Sierra Leone I had some pregnancy insomnia, which gave me some brilliant ideas. One of my brilliant ideas was that we should stop renting our house and….move into my parents’ camper, located in their backyard.  Their very small, weekend camper.  I maintain that it was a brilliant, cost-saving idea but….it’s a little tight.  It was fine when it was just Marie and I but when Peter came home…and then Ben, well.  Snug. It’s snug.  The condo that Peter and I stayed in at the coast was 3 bedrooms.  Just for us!!!  We didn’t know what to do with so much space.

Several years ago I came to this same timeshare with the rest of my family.  Peter and I had just begun dating a few months before and it was the first time we were separated.  Even though Peter had never been to this town, it was filled with memories of our relationship for me.  There was the Subway that I was eating in with my family while they were teasing me about texting Peter.  There was the beach that I used to write a message to him in the sand and e-mail him the picture.  There was the movie theater that I remember sitting in wondering if Peter would enjoy the movie we were watching (The Hobbit) and the store that was having a 90% off sale where I bought Peter his first swimming suit. (Who, when I texted him to ask him his size responded with….”I don’t know. You’ve seen me. You should know my size.”)

One of my favorite things about Peter is his giggle.  Sometimes we'll just be driving around and he'll start giggling.  The first time he saw one of these bikes, I got the giggle. :)  So when we saw people riding around on these, we knew we needed to give it a try.

Peter and I had a pretty un-conventional dating life so in order to make up for that, we did the traditional date of mini-golf for our anniversary. :) 

We were at the coast so....of course we had to fly a kite!!  Since we're not really "kite" people, we got the cheapest (and simplest) one we could find.  Turns out....kite flying isn't really that exciting.  I have such fond memories of flying kites as a kid but since there was such a great wind we literally just let it go and let the string out.  Then what do you do? We stood there for 10 minutes or so....and then we were done.  Good time had by all.

And sleep. Precious, long, uninterrupted sleep.  That might have been the best part!

Thank you Mom for keeping our kiddos so we could have this awesome time together!!

I love doing life with this guy!

Getting Close.......

Two days ago we got Ben’s birth certificate.  I started panicking…just a little bit.  Not because I spelled his name wrong on his birth certificate, which was a very real paranoia for me, but because getting his birth certificate is the first step in the sequence of events that needs to happen for us to return to Sierra Leone.  Which means….we’re going to go back soon!!!  First comes the birth certificate, which allows us to get his passport, which allows us to get his visa. Throw in a set of immunizations that he needs before we go and….we’re out of here.  Y.I.K.E.S.

Every time I come home the same thing happens.  Am I REALLY called to live in Sierra Leone? I can do ministry in America too! The cultures are the same……which means people here get my hilarious jokes!! I spend a lot of time in Sierra Leone just looking like an idiot. 

So for the last two days I’ve been like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in terms of my feelings about going back.  When I think about the work going on over there, the people I love, the potential for ministry, I’ll be so excited that I can’t WAIT to get back.  The next minute I’ll think about this new little baby and be terrified to take him to a country with lots of snakes and weird diseases, but few doctors.  I’ve been away for a while now.  Our two month trip to get married has turned into almost a year and a half.  On the one hand, I can’t wait to get settled into our own house, finally unpack all the wedding gifts that I’ve been saving and really begin our new life as a family.  On the other hand, although our life for the last year has felt very UNsettled, I know that there are many ways I’ve settled in just fine.  I’ve grown used to microwaves, unlimited electricity, good roads and cool weather!  Most importantly, I’ve grown used to having my family close by and talking to them all the time. 

Such is the battle that I have every time I come home. (This extended trip and the addition of a small, fragile human has just thrown in a few extra questions). 

As I start to get myself all riled up with the uncertainty and fear that moving across the world can induce, I start to think about…..Jesus.  I remember how much He loves me.  I remember His promise that life is HARD, but that He will never leave me by myself.  I remember how much He loves my children. 

And then I think about how much He loves Sierra Leone.  Having children of my own has given me a whole new appreciation for how much our God must love His children.  How His heart breaks for the poor, for the orphans.  And now I’m sitting here bawling because I’m in awe of the fact that we get to partner with Him to love on these people.  (I’m also going to still blame some post-partum hormones.  Is there an expiration date for those?)  Needless to say, when I fix my eyes on Jesus, things like fast internet and Subway and air-conditioning, although REALLY awesome, lose some of their luster.  Especially when I remember this

And This

And this

Serving Jesus in Sierra Leone is definitely challenging!  But what an adventure!

One of the biggest hurdles we have before going back to Salone is to complete our support raising. I haven't changed my support since I originally went over 4 years ago, as a single person.  Now we're a family of 4.  I've been really blessed to be able to work while we've been in America to make up the difference, but that opportunity is rapidly coming to a close.  Peter will be taking over the position of Country Director of our organization which was a position previously held by another missionary and is unpaid.  In order to return to Sierra Leone we need to increase our support by $400 a month.  If you feel led to partner with our family and the work in Sierra Leone feel free to contact us via e-mail at pesheriff14@gmail.com or by phone at (541) 220-0737.  

I'll be honest and say that raising support is a challenging and humbling part of working in Sierra Leone.  But so many times, when I was over in Sierra Leone and it was hard and I was discouraged, knowing that there were so many people back home who were praying for me and sacrificing their own money so that the work could continue....wow.  What an encouragement!  Such a great picture of how the body of Christ each has its own part and works together to love and to serve.  So thank you SO much! 

The Early Bird.....Gets to Go to the NICU

Two Mondays ago my plans for the evening were to watch a little TV and recuperate from a busy day of getting stuff ready for the container we’re shipping to Sierra Leone.  Instead, I gave birth.  In an effort to remember the details of that day, as well as share the story with a few people who’ve asked, I decided to share it here.  Men, (and squeamish women) beware.  I’m tired, hormonal and on my best day have a leaky social filter so I’m not sure how graphic this is going to get.  Read at your own risk. 

Monday was a busy day. My dad and I spent all day packing and organizing things for a container that we were to ship on Saturday.  My sister recently found out that her husband got a job in New Mexico and within a week or so, she and her family headed down south.  My mom went with them to help them get settled, so Dad, Marie and I were holding down the fort. 

Since I found about this little bun in the oven, Mondays have been significant because every Monday marked one more week of pregnancy down.  My husband Peter went back to Sierra Leone in April so every Thursday was significant because it meant one week closer to his return.  This Monday made 33 weeks of baby cooking and only 1 ½ more weeks until Peter got back.  (He was coming back 6 weeks before I was due so….PLENTY of time before baby came.   

We got back to the house at about 3:30 and I was pretty beat.  I put a movie on for Marie and then went in to my room to watch a little “mommy tv.” (Ok I admit it. I was watching “Married at First Sight.” A train wreck of a show that is about 3 couples who meet for the first time at the alter.  Feel free to judge….I judge myself). 

I hadn’t been watching the show for more than 10 minutes when I suddenly felt a large gush of fluid.  Oh shoot.  Did I just wet my pants?  But I didn’t have to pee! And I ALWAYS have to pee.  I stood up and some more came out.  I went into the bathroom to investigate and…..it sure didn’t smell like pee.  I went into the living room and told my Dad that I think my water broke and called my doctor’s answering service (it was Memorial Day). 

While I waited for the answering service to call me back, I tried to figure out what to do with all this water coming out.  I changed my jeans….but they were immediately soaked.  I had no idea where any pads were because we’ve moved about 17 times since becoming pregnant and….well, I hadn’t needed them.  While this hunt was going on the nurse on call called me back and I explained the situation.  As we were talking I broke down and started crying.  She told me that I needed to grab my hospital bag and go directly to the hospital.  “Hospital bag!!!” I sobbed.  “I’m only 33 weeks!! I don’t have one yet!”  She told me that if I didn’t have one packed I needed to go straight to the hospital without one.  I was in the bathroom at this point, hunting for something to catch all this fluid so I grabbed my toothbrush, glasses and contact case and called it good.  I changed my pants again and headed out the door with my dad and my daughter.  As we were walking to the car another gush of fluid came and I said forget it.  I’ll just look like I wet my pants. 

We went to the ER, as I knew this was the drill. This was the third time during my pregnancy that I’d had to be checked out for something. The other two times I had contractions that were about 2 min. apart and didn’t go away with laying down and drinking water.  They weren’t painful though, and I never dilated so they gave me some meds to make them stop and they did.   This was a whole new ballgame.  As we were driving to the hospital, I became very aware that I wasn’t feeling little Ben moving. When I’d been watching TV, he was obviously into it too because he was kicking away in there. Since my water broke, I’d felt him once at the beginning but not since.  I lost a baby in Sierra Leone to a prolapsed cord after I broke mom’s water so this was of course what I was envisioning.  The baby in Sierra Leone was a twin, so he was very small and that cord just shimmied right down there.  Ben was very small so even though I didn’t know if I was dilated, it was running through my head as a possibility.    

I got to the hospital and was happy to know that my OB was on call.  He came in, did an exam (I wasn’t dilated) and we discussed the options.  Basically, my option was that they were going to send me to a different hospital to deliver.  Ben was going to need a NICU.  Did I want to go North or South?  It was all happening so fast! But God was so faithful.  Some friends of my parents (shout out Dave and Lois) dropped what they were doing and came to the hospital to get Marie.  My dad who, although a nurse himself was probably being stretched outside his comfort zone with all this baby bornin’ business was steady and calm and ready to do whatever needed to be done.  I’d been delaying calling Peter until I knew what was going on because it was the middle of the night in Sierra Leone but at this point I decided I should let him know what was going on.  He didn’t answer his phone (which I was expecting because that boy is a heave sleeper!) so I sent him a nice little text letting him know that there was a chance we were going to have our baby much sooner than expected.  With that, they called for the ambulance and off I went.

The whole “being the patient” thing was just so weird! Signing forms as the “patient” that I’d signed a hundred times as “RN” or “witness.”  Listening to the nurse give report about me to the medics, getting loaded up into the stretcher and strapped in.  All so weird!

About five minutes after our ride started we made a pit stop at the ambulance quarters to change medics.  Apparently the one in the back with me was ready to be sick.  The new medic that hopped on was much friendlier (probably because he wasn’t focusing on not vomiting on his patient) and we had a nice little chat.  About halfway down to the hospital (the whole trip was about an hour) I noticed that these contractions were changing and starting to become a little…uncomfortable.  The medic noticed my discomfort and we started timing them.  2 minutes apart.  He told me to let him know if they got to one minute apart.  I’d had contractions that were 2 minutes apart (although they hadn’t been this….uncomfortable) so I wasn’t really worried.  We only had 30 minutes to go.  I assured him we’d be fine. (As much as I didn’t want to deliver in an ambulance, I knew he didn’t want to HELP me deliver in an ambulance either….probably even more!)    

I arrived at my new hospital and the nurse got me all admitted.  Although it was Memorial Day, the doctor on call was already around for another patient so she came in to see me right away.  She did an ultrasound and sure enough, my water was broken.  As we were talking she noticed that I was squirming around quite a bit and asked about my contractions.  I said that they seemed to be getting more painful but I thought I was just being a wimp because I hadn’t been dilated at all at my home hospital.  She explained that the way they do the exam after your water has broken can make it difficult to really tell if you’re dilated so, based on the way I was squirming, she wanted to check me again.  I was 3 cm. dilated.  Ben was coming sooner rather than later.  But I haven’t even had my childbirth classes yet!!!  I was waiting for Peter to get home so we were going to do them next week!!  She asked if I wanted some pain medication or was interested in an epidural and I said….”epidural please.” 

Then I said, “Dangit! I was going to see how long I could go without an epidural and I only made it to 3cm????  Shoot!”

She said, “ Well, I think I could stretch it to 4cm.  You were dilated 4cm.  Does that make you feel better?”

“Yes!  Thank you.”

“If it makes you feel better, I had my daughter in this same room and after 2 real contractions was calling for an epidural.” 

I liked her.

At this point I’m pretty….uncomfortable…. and am moving around a lot.  As if I could find some kind of position that would make this pain go away.  (Hint: no position will make that pain “go away.”  Not sure what I was thinking.)  I heard the nurse tell someone that the anesthesiologist was in the middle of a case and they’d call him in 10 minutes.  Call him in 10 min?  And then who knows how long it will take for him to get here? Dang.  I’m ready for him……um…..now.

Every time the door opened I was hoping to see a face that I didn’t recognize with a name tag that said “Anesthesia” and a giant needle to put in my back to make me feel better.  I heard the nurses murmuring to each other “Did they call him? Where is he?” After what seemed like an eternity (and was probably more like 30 minutes or so) he arrived!!!  My first thought was “Praise the Lord!!!” followed quickly by “How the heck am I going to stay still for him to get this into me?”  I’d been moving all around in the bed, standing up, sitting down, bending over……etc. How was I going to sit still?  Anesthesia got all set up and I just kept thinking “Emily, you have to sit still because the sooner he gets it in, the sooner you’ll feel better.” 

And this was where I really saw how those natural childbirth classes probably would have helped.  When I was forced to sit down, the nurse sat with me and helped me focus on my breathing and just getting through the contraction.  One contraction at a time.  Before I’d been a crazy person, moving all around, just trying to get comfortable.  Focusing on breathing and just getting through a contraction was actually really helpful. 

As helpful as it was, as soon as he was done and had administered the “test dose” I was up again.  This time apparently, with some grunting. 

I heard one of the nurses say “That moan sounded different.  Do you feel like you need to poop?” 

Me: “Poop?   No.” (I've delivered a baby into a bedpan before when a woman needed to "poop" so I knew where she was going). 

Anesthesia: “Should we get the doctor in here?”  (Later the nurses were laughing at that because…..he is a doctor!)

Me: One more contraction and…..“Um, ok I think I'm ready to push now.”

My dad walking in the room: “When did all this happen?” (He’d stepped out for the epidural and things had progressed…..quickly.)

They set me back in the bed and I vaguely remember noticing there were quite a few people in there.  They told me to push so I did a couple times and then I saw the doc exchange a look with the nurse. Ben’s heartrate was dropping with the contractions which meant we needed to get him out. 

So I pushed harder. The thought did cross my mind that as small as this kid must be, he should be sliding right out!  And eventually, he did.  And he came out screaming!!  They let me hold him for a few minutes until the doctor started hearing some grunting noises that he wanted to check out and they whisked him away. 

As soon as Ben (and the entourage that had come to take care of him) left the room I started settling down.  That’s when it occurred to me.  Hey! Does that count as an epidural?????  Everyone in the room said No!!! If the anesthesiologist is still in the room, there’s no way it’s had time to work and it doesn’t count!  So yeah…..I’m pretty hard core….yeah……

After I was stitched up and cleaned up, I went to go see Ben in the NICU.  I was amazed.  His oxygen level was 100% and he didn’t need any extra oxygen!! They hadn’t even needed to give him the medicine that they often do when babies are born early to help their lungs develop.  And he was just beautiful.

There are a few things that are imprinted in my mind right now that I want to make sure I remember about my “birth story.”

 1) The paramedic who was in the back with me telling the driver to “not waste time and get those lights on” as we were pulling away.  Then the relief I had when I saw the hospital and knew I wouldn’t be delivering in the ambulance.

2)      Marie leaving the hospital with her Auntie Lois and just the feeling of thankfulness I had knowing that she was with someone she loves who loves her and I didn’t have to worry about her.

3)      My precious dad standing in the doorway while I was pushing.  He told me later that there were so many people in the room that he didn’t want to get in the way, but he didn’t want me to be alone.  That’s how he was the whole time.  Present.  Available if I needed something.  Precious.

4)      Hearing Ben’s strong cry as soon as he was born. I was expecting him to be lethargic and probably struggling to breathe when he came out so that cry was just wonderful.

5)      A dear friend of mine texting me and telling me that she was coming down.  Not asking, just telling me that even if she ended up just waiting in the waiting room, she was coming down.  After her own difficult labor and extended time in the ICU with her husband, she was a huge and did so many practical things to help and encourage me.

6)      Going to visit Ben and having the internet in Sierra Leone work well enough so we could Skype with Peter and he could see his son.  He was just sleeping so I tried poking him so he’d wake up and do something but Peter told me to “just let the man sleep.”  A picture of our relationship. Me riling things up, Peter calming them down. J

7)      The relief I had when my mom arrived.  My dad did an incredible job, but I’m 33 and still need my mommy. J

8)      The massive amounts of texts and Facebook messages that I received from people who were thinking about and praying for me.  I’ve yet to be able to respond to them all but was so thankful during that time for all the people that were praying for me!

9)      My dad told me, sometime in the next couple of days, that he counted 11 people in my delivery room.  Eleven people, just there for Ben.  At least two doctors, specialized nurses, a respiratory therapist and many other people all there to do everything they could to make sure Ben and I were ok. (I do have a fleeting memory of

looking to my right and noticing a strange guy helping me hold my leg up and thinking…..”Hi. Have we met?”)  Peter and I were talking about it later and I broke down crying thinking about all the people and resources that we have to help Ben and then thinking about all the babies in Sierra Leone who don’t even have one trained person attend their delivery.  We are truly blessed in this country. 

This whole experience was definitely something that was unexpected, but I was so incredibly thankful for all the people who stepped up to help me.  Many times over the last couple of weeks I’ve thought about all the people who were the hands and feet of Jesus to me during this time.  I’m a very blessed woman.  

P.S.  Next will be "What happens when you try to bring someone from an EBOLA COUNTRY into the NICU?  Da da da.......