We loved our delivery experience with Holly a couple years ago in Chad (even though delivering in Chad was difficult), so when a lady at our church here in Sherbrooke told Sonja about a birthing center where she delivered her babies with the assistance of a midwife, we began to rethink our earlier decision to deliver our baby in Vermont.
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Sonja scheduled an appointment at order Deltasone SAGE-famille to investigate the place and see whether it was palatable or not for us to deliver there.  The birthing center was just 15-20 minutes from our apartment on campus.  Here in Quebec, the French term for midwife is sage-femme, or wise woman.  The birthing center had numerous sages-femmes and one of them spoke pretty good English, so we felt comfortable with the place.

The birthing center had four delivery rooms with different themes.  After the doctor at the hospital inverted Perpetua that night (amazing how he actually turned her so that her head was down), we went over to the birthing center at 9 PM and selected the spacious “Peuples des Mers” room (Peoples of the Seas).  Since Sonja was already dilated to a 7 at her appointment in the afternoon, our midwife Michele wanted to induce Sonja while Perpetua’s head was down.  So, we started walking the halls, bouncing on balls, along with other things to try and pick up the pace.

The birthing center was quiet.  It was only the two of us, our midwife Michele, and an Algerian midwife in training.  Her name was Suwaad and Sonja LOVED speaking Arabic with her (Michele did a double-take when we all started speaking Arabic).  Here’s a picture of everyone in the room:

Though the contractions were progressing, Sonja was exhausted from a full day, so Michele encouraged her to lay down and take a nap.  She slept for about three hours and the midwives came to wake her up at 3 AM.  The nap was just what she needed.  Sonja and Perpetua were ready, so Michele broke her water and Sonja’s usual 90 minutes of active labor commenced.

There were two phrases that could be heard often for those 90 minutes, which I thought communicated the problem of sin and the hope of the gospel in their own simple way.  I’m pretty sure Sonja wasn’t cognizant of how frequently she was repeating them, but I wondered what our midwives were thinking.  As the contractions started to come on, with tones that differed depending on the intensity, Sonja would yell, “I HATE THIS!”  I love that brutal honesty.  And then immediately she would repetitiously say, “Jesus, help me…Jesus, help me…Jesus, help me”.

There were some other sounds mixed in there as well, but Jesus did help Sonja, and He did answer our prayers for a safe delivery.  Sonja says it was her best ever (she really liked the tranquility of the birthing center and the hands-off approach of the midwives).  Most of all…we’re thankful for the tremendous blessing and responsibility of loving and raising Perpetua.

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