Update

Here's an update:

The triplets were named Felista, Tania, and Calista. Felista was the surprise third baby, and she lived for 2 days, then passed away. Tania and Calista are doing alright so far, bound tightly to the chests of their mother, Ruthie, and their grandmother, Flora, in around-the-clock Kangaroo Care. Now at 1 week old, Calista weighs 900 grams and Tania weighs 1,030 grams (1.9 lbs and 2.2 lbs, respectively). So you can keep praying for them. I gave Ruthie the printed photo of the three girls together.

There will be a maternal death audit on Thursday that I hope to attend at the district hospital - unless it is declared a public holiday for Eid al-Adha, which is the Muslim Festival of Sacrifice, marking Ibrahim/Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Ishmael/Isaac, before being stopped by Allah/God (depending on your point of view). These audits are held after every maternal death and I'm curious to see how it is handled. That it's happening alongside the Eid is another interesting juxtaposition for me, with overlapping themes of loss, faith, parenting, children, the will of God, the brokenness of humans. (I'm a little annoyed the mothers were left out of that Biblical account.) I don't have any profound conclusions about the juxtaposition, but if you do, by all means, please share!

Speaking of, I know these posts are intense. It's hard for me to gauge how they're landing, especially amongst non-medical folks. Writing is obviously how I process and it helps me feel less isolated. Its a therapy-substitute for sure: cheaper (yay!) but generally one-way. I am grateful for feedback of any sort, as I think most writers are.

Two friends recently sent these [paraphrased] messages I found encouraging:

"There's being culturally sensitive, but I do think every culture has its blind spots. One of the beautiful things about working cross-culturally is that we can see those blind spots, and they can see ours in us. And we can look at things through - hopefully - the hope of the Gospel and sometimes show a different way, compassionately, humbly." 

"Reading the Gospels, I see Jesus not having a strategic plan that unfolds perfectly in His days. Rather, He carries the goodness of God into normal, chaotic days, and responds to the needs that present themselves. You can do that." 

Matthew and I are confused 90% of our time here and it is subtly exhausting but living in a state of confusion can also be clarifying (like a juice cleanse?), forcing a new perspective of oneself. Sometimes I show a 'different way of being' in a good way and sometimes I yell at the small children who refuse to leave our yard for more than two hours and won't stop asking for more fruit, until I finally have to chase them away, angry, because I just need a moment of privacy in my own kitchen. I definitely didn't suffer the children to come unto me.

I have learned that being honest is the way to cope with the confusion, the way to engage with one's faith, and that it has to go both ways: you gotta be honest about the ugly and equally honest about the beautiful. For me, writing is rejuvenating, even when things don't have storybook endings, even when they break your heart. 

I wanted Felista to grow up with her sisters. But she won't. 

The last two shifts were not anywhere near as crazy as the first day, but each carried hard things: more neonatal losses, personal frustration, heaps of confusion. I've never resuscitated so many newborns in my life. In America, all I did is push a button on the wall and a team of 6-8 people came sprinting, each with years of training on how to save a struggling baby. I'm trying to give myself time to adjust to this new normal - which is in fact just being clear-eyed to what childbirth and life is like for the majority of the world. 

Honesty. That's one gift Malawi gives us.

Thanks for coming along.

This was the delivery kit given to me when the sterile packs ran out.

I took this from a moving motorcycle. Matthew calls it Lisa Frank Malawi.

This is the draft of a post I wrote in 2008 but never published. I just found it again. It makes me laugh and sums up African expat life perfectly.