May 25
LANE
I tried to concentrate on my breathing. On taking long, slow inhales, matched against long, slow exhales. It was the only thing I could do to try and relax, as we drove through the night on the only dirty road leading in the direction of the child's home.
She was huddled under my arm, her eyes no longer wet with tears. She looked surprisingly calm for someone so small, and for someone who had just walked all this way, at night, alone. I found myself glancing at her frequently, in awe of her. Such a brave little girl.
I wondered what she was thinking right now. What had been the scene when she left her home, having no choice but to seek out help in the only place she could think of? Did her mother send her? The thought unnerved me. Even though she undoubtedly needed help, sending a child out into the night anywhere, let alone here, was unthinkable to me. Maybe the girl just left on her own, knowing there was no other way to help her mother, than to bring help to her.
What would the scene be when we arrived? Were we too late? I had never seen a birth before, the entire concept terrifying and unnatural to me. To push another human being from your body, in blood and mucus and screaming...and women chose that? The thought made me want to sew my knees together.
Smith seemed to know where he was going, and I wondered if the girl had told him before we had left. No one had said anything since we left the camp, all of us looking out the open air sides of the jeep as the dust and dirty from the road billowed out behind us. We all seemed trapped in our own thoughts, and I wondered if they were just as concerned with what we may find as I was.
It was myself, Will, Neil and Sam, one of the nurses. And of course Smith, for protection. We were the rescue operation, of sorts. In the back, were boxes and drapes and metal instruments that I didn't even want to think of their use. I clung to my camera, my other arm over the girl who leaned against my side, pushing away all thoughts other than my breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
After what seemed like forever, a time that only made me consider just how long it took this small girl to walk this distance if it took us this long to drive it, Smith slowed, pulling off the road and through a narrow lane. It couldn't even be counted as a lane, so much as a flattening of the tall, dead grass. We came to a small hut, ramshackle and humble, only a dim, flickering light illuminating the inside.
The moment the jeep stopped, the girl moved to jump out of the car. I stopped her, passing her across to Neil, to set her on the ground. The moment her feet touched the dirt, she ran towards her home. Will and Sam following closely, while Smith, Neil and myself gathered the equipment from the back of the jeep.
"Does this happen often?" I asked, tucking a large drape under my arm.
"Not as often as you would think," Smith commented, his lips in a firm line.
Once all equipment was piled in our arms, we turned towards the home. Just as we approached, a scream of pain echoed through the night. It drowned out the crickets, and the usual sounds, and caused my blood to run cold.
I faltered in my step, stilling for a moment. Neil seemed to notice me fall a step behind, turning to me.
"Come on, Lane," he called, his voice tight. "We need to do this."
I nodded, my body shaking, as I stepped through the small door, and into a moderate open space.
The home was literally made of sticks, mud and grass. So primitive, and so typical of what you would expect in an area such as this. And yet, in the back of my mind, I couldn't imagine life like this. Dirt floors, only firelight, with nothing more than blankets in the corner as a bed.
In that bed, lay the woman, no older than myself, the little girl now huddled beside her. She was laying on her back, her hands clutching around her bulbous belly, her legs bend awkwardly. There was blood all over her legs, the thin sheath she wore soaked through with red.
Trembling, I set my items with the others, stepping to the side to allow the medical team to assess her. Will was already at her side, Smith speaking to her. I couldn't understand a word, but it sounded like they were comforting her. After a moment, the woman nodded, panting shallow breaths, as Will moved to kneel between her legs. Lifting her clothes, my eyes widened.
I could clearly see the top of a little head, shiny and bloody, stretching through her. I felt a wave of panic, and immediately wanted to step outside. This was more than I was prepared for. Yes, I knew this had been happening for thousands of years. This was natural and beautiful and blah blah blah. But I was scared shitless and didn't want to see a fucking head popping out of her vagina.
Sam handed Will a pair of gloves, as she then turned and prepared a tray on a small wooden table at the side. Here, she spread out some of the metal tools that had unnerved me from the jeep, before lifting away the woman's bloody clothes, and placing a blue drape over her legs. Another was placed below her, Will muttering instructions to Neil and Sam, as well as to Smith to translate to the woman.
All the while, the child sat in the corner, her legs pulled to her chest, her eyes locked on her mothers face. She didn't cry. She didn't move. She just watched.
She was so brave. She was only four, and she was so much braver than me.
Resolving myself, I clutched my camera tightly in my hand.
"Am I allowed to shoot?" I asked, remembering the warning Smith had given us on our arrival. Some things were not meant to be shot, and if Will said back off, you did as you were told. I did not want to intrude, or be insensitive to the situation.
Will turned to me, adjusting his position between her legs. "You okay for this?" he asked, noticing my pale face and wide eyes. Steadying my resolve, I nodded.
Smith muttered something to the woman, who looked to me, her expression apprehensive. After a moment, she nodded, as another contraction ripped through her. She screamed, her head throwing back, her mouth open wide in a howl of pain.
"She said yes," Smith called out, his attention on the women.
Immediately, my camera was at my eyes, and I started. I couldn't even tell you what I was shooting, but I took everything. The equipment, the home. The scene, with Will between her legs, Sam passing him equipment. Smith never left her side, muttering instruction, encouragement and praise. And all the while, the little girl who had walked so far, sat in her corner, watching.
Taking a shot of the entire scene, my eyes fell to the playback, my breath catching in my throat. You could see the baby's head crowning, along with everyone gathered around to help this little person enter the world. And of course, the ever watchful eyes of his big sister. It was remarkable. And everything I had hoped to take while being here, without ever knowing it.
"Push," Will muttered, encouraging the woman in a language she didn't understand. His hands were around the baby's head, partially inside her as he tried to ease the transition. She screamed in pain again, every few minutes, as contraction after contraction racked her body.
I moved closer, lowering to get an image of Wills face from his place at her legs. His eyes were trained forward, on his job, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead.
Image after image I took, constantly moving, constantly shooting, all from a respective and noticeable distance. The last thing I wanted was to get in the way, but all I wanted was to capture this moment forever.
A sound at the door startled me, just as the woman screamed again. A small crowd had gathered, neighboring villagers coming to see the commotion. Smith swore loudly, pushing up from his place at her head to move towards the door. Quickly, he started speaking, trying to motion them back out into the night to allow privacy and for us to do our jobs.
The woman moaned, her head lolling to the side. She was exhausted, in pain, and weary.
"She needs to push," Will called out, cursing under his breath. "The head is almost out. We still need the shoulders."
Glancing at Smith, he was still trying to urge the gawkers back outside, just as the woman cried out again.
Without thinking, I moved to her side, to the place Smith had vacated. Placing my camera to the side, I took her hand tightly in my own. She stared up at me with pleading eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks. She was beautiful, and so young.
"What is the Somali word for push?" I asked, looking up to Sam.
She paused only for a moment, noticing my place beside the woman. "Riix."
Turning back to her, I repeated the word.
"Riix," I said softly. "Riix,"
Breathing heavily, the woman watched my face, before nodding, squeezing my hand tightly, and bearing down.
"Good," Will praised, reaching out to his side. Pulling another towel from the table, he called out again. "Harder."
"Cadaadis," Sam told me quickly.
"Cadaadis," I repeated to the woman, her hand a death grip on my own.
This repeated for only a moment, me telling her to push, her screaming, Will's eyes intently downward. With a hard final push, the woman bowed upwards, her chin touching her chest, screaming out, before falling back to the floor.
Seconds later, a new, shrill cry echoed through the space.
Will straightened, a tiny, squirming little baby in his arms. The umbilical cord was still attached, draping back down between the woman's legs. The baby was covered in white mush, blood and mucus. It was rather disgusting, but absolutely beautiful.
"Boy," Will smiled, his eyes to the woman.
"Wiil," Smith said, suddenly just above me. His word caused the woman to smile, choking a small laugh of relief, just as Will set the tiny baby on her chest, turning his attention back to his job. Within twenty minutes, the cord was cut, the placenta delivered, and the woman was sated with her newborn son.
Once finished, everyone just sat back and watched. There was a quiet awe, as we took in the look on the woman's face, as the little girl shuffled up to her side. She gazed at her new little brother with fascination, before reaching out a tiny hand to pet his head.
Quickly and instinctively I reached for my camera, capturing the moment.
"You did good," Smith praised me, his voice low.
I smiled, my eyes not able to tear away from this new little family.
This was why I came here. As terrifying and life changing as it had been, this was why I came. I wanted to show life, and tonight I quite literally did.