Webale Nyo

We are coming home tomorrow.

OH. THE. JOY. 

There were truly days where the end of this adventure seemed everlastingly out of reach. Yet here we are, busily trying to see everyone we have come to love one more time. 

Although we have both determined to say only positive things about our summer, I will say this: it was challenging. It was overwhelming sometimes. It was not what we expected. 

It was also necessary. 

Our loving Father in Heaven knew we needed it. I needed it, probably much more than Benji did. Gracefully, I didn't have to do it without my husband. 

A few crucial and life changing lessons I learned this summer:

BE PRESENT. For so long I had a tightness around my heart and an anxiousness in my breath, wishing the time away. I was stressed and I was angry because the time wasn't passing quickly enough. We had many days where neither of us were able to accomplish any schoolwork due to means beyond our control. I spent the time on social media and wishing I was at home, doing all the things everyone else was doing. Only when I released myself from feeling like I was trying to control the time and push it along did I find peace. When I put the iPad down and took in all my five senses, my days started to feel happy and full and to slip along effortlessly. I consider this an incredible tender mercy from God, that He put me in a refining situation to learn this specific lesson before I ever had children. Hopefully their mother will be much more present with them than she would have been. 

TRUST. I've mentioned before how stressful and exhausting it was trying to get clinical hours yada yada. One day we took a different route home from church than normal. We passed Princeton Children's Medical Center and I thought, "maybe they would give me a chance." It took me a few weeks to finally approach them, and I was literally wrapped in their arms. I was humbled by their acceptance and friendship. And, it was one of their doctors who finally had the key that unlocked the door for me to enter Mulago. 

At Mulago, the timing worked out perfectly for me to fulfill clinicals with a North American team. Heavenly Father knew what He was doing all along, and the outcome was more perfect than any arrangement I could have managed myself. 

SIMPLIFY. Especially in regards to testimony. Really, the church is just about faith, obedience, love, and service. So many people are so hung up on minor details (I was one of them). If you go back to and focus on those basic principles, all the little things fall in line naturally. 

I have also been humbled by gratitude for my own Nation, all the things we take for granted every day (911, traffic lights, emergency medicine, insurance, structured addresses, clean water, the list goes on and on...) 

I have been braver about sharing the Gospel than ever before and discovered it isn't as difficult as I had always thought. Just talk to people. If the Gospel is the center of your life, it will be impossible to get to know someone and for them to get to know you without the restored gospel naturally coming up in the conversation. People will be shocked by how you live, and some of them will want to know more. 

I have come to rely on and trust my husband more than ever before. That was a gift given to us in this experience. He has been solid and bright and steady. He's a miracle in my life.

I'm so thankful to be coming home. I'm also so thankful for this challenge and the growth that came because of it. I feel closer to my sisters even though we've been 8,000 miles apart, because we've all struggled with different things this summer and leaned on each other's faith through texts and emails. 

God is in the details of our lives. He's in Uganda. He's in America. We are HIS children and He is in charge. I'm grateful to know that as we keep moving on and learning in whatever comes next for us. 

The title of this post is Luganda for "thank you." Thank you to everyone who has prayed for us and followed this adventure. We've needed you. Can't wait to hug you all soon!

It Takes a Nurse

I've spent this week in the Labor and Delivery unit at Mulago Hospital in Uganda. First let me preface this by saying that my L&D clinicals in the States were not very positive and I had no desire to go into this speciality. God is so good. I have LOVED this week so much!!

Another preface: it took almost the entire three months of being here for me to get permission to go to Mulago. It was SO stressful. But, just so happens that there is a Canadian team here this week, two medical students and one of their moms, a senior midwife. There is also a medical student from Australia and another from Vermont. I'm surrounded by people who are trained at the same standard as I am and who understand my language. It is a HUGE miracle and blessing. I am the only nursing student. I am so grateful for them. Tracy has taken me under her wing and taught me so much and inspired confidence and courage. It would have been a very different story had I come to Mulago any other time. 

I learned from Tracy, the Canadian midwife, that midwifery in Canada is direct entry. Meaning, she isn't a nurse and she isn't a doctor. She is a midwife. Certified midwives in the States are first nurses, then midwives. 

ANYWAY. Somehow, this lowly nursing student has become invaluable amongst these medical students and midwives:

-The women here labor lying on huge pieces of plastic (no sheets. No absorbent pads.) They have only huge rolls of cotton to clean up with. After delivery, the mother is lying on this plastic covered in blood and feces and amniotic fluid and it's all slippery up her back and everywhere. Tracy and I found ourselves standing over a mother and her new baby, gloves mucky, staring at the mess. I looked at the mother and said, "could you roll to one side?" And started gathering all the mess into the plastic and tucking it underneath her, while wiping her down with massive gobs of cotton. Tracy looked at me and said, "I love doing this with a nurse. Everyone else has the mother lift herself up." 

-there were two women who were preparing for c-sections. They needed IV's started and urinary catheters placed. None of the medical students or midwives felt confident, so I did it. It gave me the biggest thrill to have skills and know how to use them, and to be trusted and depended on to do it. 

-today, I was placing a few more IV's on a couple women who needed to be induced. The curtain was closed around us, and I heard Tracy saying "where's Bethany? She's the IV queen. We need her to do it." HA. Turns out, doctors aren't even trained to place IVs in Canada. At least, that's what they told me. 

-one woman had been laboring VERY loudly all day with little progress. Most African women labor very quietly, so this lady was very noticeable. She had sort of become the boy who cried wolf, and no one was really paying attention. I came back from a short break and she was screaming and no one was paying attention to her, so I decided to just go see her and help her feel cared for. I opened the curtain and saw a little baby head crowning. I told the mother to STOP PUSHING while I ran to draw up pitocin, find sterile gloves, get a razor to cut the cord with, get something to tie the cord with, while shouting to the African midwife to come help me. All the North Americans had gone to lunch.

Well, that midwife DIDN'T COME. So there I was, my second day on the unit, delivering a baby in Africa. And there was meconium everywhere. The midwife showed up just as I pulled the baby up onto the mama's chest and started rubbing her to make her cry. Her APGAR was a 4. I cut the cord and told the midwife to deliver the placenta while I ran the baby over to resuscitate. 

By the time my team returned the baby was doing better and I gave care of the baby over to Tracy, our master resuscitator. 

I learned this week that sometimes, it just takes a nurse. A passionate, well trained, wise nurse. 

(Or a student going into her third year with little experience and a lot of adrenaline.) :)