My Life as an African Gypsy

We are approaching February and the birth of my first little girl. So exciting! I cannot wait to hold and cuddle her.

Yesterday at our appointment we monitored Anaya's heartbeat. During the 3 minute check, Anaya's heartbeat dropped alarmingly low. My doctor ordered that I go to Labor and Delivery and be monitored for 20 minutes. It was my 1st appointment without my hubby, since he's been at a sports training all week. I felt pretty in control, as I called him to give a quick update. He decided to drive up and come sit with me. When I saw him, a few tears escaped. I was nervous.

During the 20 minute monitoring session, Anaya's heartbeat remained a little high. This could have been from my nerves, or in a response to her heartbeat getting so low. Either way, it was a relief that it didn't drop again. It did look as though I could have been having small contractions, which is normal at this point as my uterus prepares for what's ahead. I have not dilated at all, and this is a good thing for now.

After chatting with the doctor, we decided maybe her heartbeat dropped because the nurse had me on my back during the 3 minute session. Not flat on my back, but my back nonetheless, which is a bit of a no, no. I should have been on my side.

In order to be cautious, I am monitoring her movements, and we'll go in tomorrow for another scan. My doctor will come in and have a look at the chart once we are done. I have a peace about it, as she is moving as much as ever!

Other than that little scare, everything is good. I am more and more uncomfortable, but I am 9 months pregnant, so it is to be expected. Jon and I are intentionally trying to enjoy our alone time, sleeping in some, napping some, and going on some dates.

Hard to believe the changes that our about to happen for our little family. We are ready!

Even in the dark moments, it is possible to glimpse the hand of God.

Some of you may recall a recent post on my facebook about a thirteen year old girl, who we were unsure if she would make it through the night. She did. Lucia's health still hangs in the balance, but she is holding on. Since then, the father, Longo, has been trying to arrange a way to get her home, even if it is only for her last few days. "Home" for her is in the far North of Mozambique, which is some 20 or more hours driving. She is anxious and determined to see her sisters and family, as she has been away for months, suffering without them.

We had hope over the past two days that she and her father would be able to take a plane; however, yesterday we were faced with the crushing news that she did not have her ID and would not be permitted on the airplane. It would take a week or so for her ID to arrive... a week we are not sure she has.

Still determined, they decided they would go by bus. We said our prayers over her, whispered our goodbyes, gave our kisses, and wiped our tears, all the while not sure how she would sit for so long on public transport.

A phone came in at 6 this morning from her father. The bus driver would not allow them on the bus. When they boarded her discomfort was so great she began to cry, and understandably, the driver made the decision she could not make the long ride. I can imagine their fear she would die with all the passengers on board.

We laid in bed a bit, sad over the news, though I had to think that perhaps the Lord knew how awful the trip would be and in His mercy had shut the door.

We called our friend and dedicated partner, who quickly began contacting connections here in Maputo. Thankfully, miraculously, an ID was able to arranged quickly. If you lived here, you would only be able to marvel at the hand of Lord, as this simply does not happen.

They should be leaving this afternoon or early in the morning. Please pray for them as they will have a couple hour flight, and then still a 10 hour train ride. After arriving home, we can hardly imagine much time left on this earth... not being in a hospital will be more difficult and pain medication will not be readily available, though she will have the opportunity to be surrounded by the ones she loves.

I can see the Lord's love for her already and pray his mercy and grace over the next few days.

I sit in this strange place in my life... actually it is normally in a hard metal chair.

I have intentionally surrounded myself with death. Jon and I have felt the Lord's call and direction to sit by the lonely and the dying in their moments of suffering, usually their last moments on this earth. While we would love to see healing and miraculous signs, we have heard the small voice of the Holy Spirit telling us our ministry is ushering the dying into His presence.

And yet in those exact moments, those moments of death, I have this life growing in my tummy... this miraculous little girl. As I sit next to the dying and cry over their pain, nearly overcome with hopelessness, Anaya is in my tummy, moving and squirming and reminding me of life and miracles.

It is strange and beautifully twisted.