_Alice arrived in the Eleventh hour. Literally, translated from the Acholi language, 5 am is called the Eleventh hour, with 6 am being the Twelfth and 7 am being the First hour; the first hour of light and a new day. She arrived in what she believed would be her Ninth and final labor. Having walked about 6 miles to reach help, she was ready to push shortly after arrival. Her body was tired, she had barely eaten the previous day, and was encouraged to drink sweet tea to give her energy for the push.


The baby's tiny head emerged, quickly followed by the rest of her, and yet the mountain of Alice’s belly still loomed before us, undiminished. As her body called her to push again, she believed the placenta would be born, yet instead, tiny feet made their appearance, then disappeared again to be replaced by another, tinier head. Then the second little girl was born, followed immediately by those persistent, delicate little feet that had tried to cut the line. And then there were three. Three tiny, beautiful little girls, instead of the last, single child that Alice had been expecting.

_Needless to say it was a bit of a shock, to all involved. Earlier in the pregnancy, Alice's husband had divorced her, after bearing him 5 live children. He maintained that because he had used condoms with Alice when they had intimate relations, he had nothing to do with this new pregnancy, and sent her back to her fathers village with all of her children. She found herself suddenly single, now with 8 children all under the age of 12.

The first days were challenging, but the babies, named in Acholi tradition: Apiyo (first born), Acen (second born) and Adoch (born breech) were strong spirits, all able to latch and nurse well. Apiyo was 2 kg/ 4.4 lbs, Acen 1.8 kg/ 3.9 lbs, and tiny Adoch was only .9 kg/ 1.9 lbs. Alice was very despondent at first, overwhelmed with the reality before her. She was reluctant to hold them or nurse them, believing that at least one or more would surely die, afraid to love them. Her tired body refused to cooperate, and two, three, four days passed and still her milk failed to come in. We fed her, gave her teas, vitamins, homeopathics and loving support... yet still her milk did not come.

__And she thrived, sleeping on my chest at night and spending the day curled up with her sisters, by a week old she was starting to gain on them.

It took 6 long days for Alice's milk to come, but thankfully it did, as we knew it must. She was able to fully nurse Apiyo, but we had to continue helping her with Acen, who developed reflux, and needed to be fed small quantities in an upright position and then burped and held upright for 10 minutes after each frequent feeding. As for Adoch, more and more Alice asked that she remain with us midwives. She expressed her belief that she might be unable to care for all of her many children, collect firewood, cook, wash, find food for so many with three small babies. Who would carry the other two while she worked with one on her back? How would she manage while they were still so small and unable to be worn on the back? Several days later, her milk supply was still not adequate for three, not even quite enough for two, no matter how much we fed and hydrated her.

One afternoon, as I sat bathing the babies with her, Alice looked me in the eye, told me about her concerns and asked if I would like to have Adoch. I asked her if she was serious. She said she knew now that she could not take care of these babies alone. Could I, or someone else take one or even two of them?

With Adoch bound to my chest, and my own one-year-old daughter on my hip, I went to my co-midwife Rachel, to cry the pain in my heart because I knew I could not take this baby, yet I knew if I did not, she would surely die. And as she often does, Rachel inspired me... what if we could find an adoptive family? And as soon as we put the word out to the universe, a miracle was provided! A wonderful couple who had been trying to have their own child for years without success would like to adopt two of the babies!

Two weeks postpartum, a grateful and stronger Alice returned to her village with Apiyo, the first and strongest of the baby girls. Acen and Adoch grew steadily with us, and just a couple of days later met their new mother. Although the legal process in Uganda is lengthy, the new parents are committed to give their daughters the very best and are sticking with it through thick and thin.

At 2 1/2 months old, all the girls are now over 4 kg/ 8 1/2 lbs , healthy, strong and beautiful.
Olivia Kimball, Traditional Midwife

_When I was leaving my home in Hawai’i my family said, “we will see you on your birthday.” I had already seen that my birthday this year would be on a full moon, just as when I was born on a full moon 57 years again and so I answered, “no, there will be a baby born on my birthday and I will be there for her.” We have always in our family given to others on our birthdays, as the material gifts do not mean much in the bigger picture of life. The morning of my birthday as I was teaching a class before a morning full of prenatals, I noticed a young girl in a beautiful white dress with green, yellow and red colors at the top of her dress squirming as if she was having contractions.

_I was teaching about how important it was that the women claim their birth experience and understand what is happening to our bodies in birth. Mary Antoinette would soon have the women up doing primal dance moves that will move them and their babies through this primal experience we call birth. I watched this young mother tighten up her shoulders as another one of the Haitian apprentice midwives, Cason, gently massaged her shoulders. I explained the importance of allowing the baby to be born through our bodies and how relaxation allows the release of hormones and endorphins. I kept an eye on this young mother, now knowing that she was the reason why I stayed a couple days longer. Soon we were up doing our exercises and forming a circle of women that would learn our primal dance steps and gently massage each other’s shoulders as we moved in a circle one way, only to reverse the dancing circle and now massage the hips in front of you.

_As night came onto us, Mary Antoinette being very pregnant, went to rest and take a nap. Betina’s mom and husband did the same. That just left Betina, her sweet baby and me to move together. I gave her a strong deep massage that loosened up all the muscles in the front and back of her pelvis and touched and talked to the baby while I was massaging. I massaged her through contractions and restful minutes, as labor was now getting more intense. This intensity is something as a midwife that I love, it not only brings the baby closer but it brings the woman to a powerful place that connects her to the greatest of all mother, the earth. It is a powerful energy that I am able to tap into as the mother now is well connected to her “work” and of course the work of her baby that connects her to a deep primal place. This hard work that we do for the earth and of course it comes back to us as women in our own personal growth.

_Betina then got up after her massage and started moving in her dance, the African bird was opening her up, her baby was moving down through her pelvis and I was there to again witness and help. When the baby got low, she moved to the ground and curled up, I went and got two pillows, one for her head and one between her legs and laid down to hold her. Betina had chosen the ground, not a bed to birth and I knew and she knew just where to be. She was holding onto me tightly in a big hug and she looked and me so sweetly and said,” I love you Clare,” I did not even know she spoke English. I was so touched and honored to be part of love again. I called out to Mary Antoinette to come and catch her baby and to her mom who was also resting and to her supportive husband. Mary Antoinette gracefully supported the head and Betina as the baby come into the world, I was privileged to keep her in my arms breathing with her. Betina controlled her breath in a deep “aaaa” as her body opened up to let her baby come so peacefully to her. Again I was blessed to witness this ceremony of birth and the power of a young woman.
Later Betina and her husband asked Mary to interpret for them, they asked me if I would name their baby. I was shocked, as it is a big responsibility to name a baby, the name that they will hear and it will become who they are. At first, I was questioning whether I was ready to do this naming of a baby, but I heard my “motherwit” speak…say yes. I answered that I was honored but the name would be African,. it would go back to their ancestors just as she did when she birthed. They smiled and the next day, Mary Antoinette and I went to her home to give the baby her name. It came to me so strongly, Sankofa…the name of an African bird that means to go back and get it. It meant for me that Sankofa had come to her mom, allowed her to fill the power of that mighty African bird which Betina had become during her dance of birth. I explained this to the family when I came, and they all smiled, it was the name that they wanted. I was asked to be the godmother of my special birthday baby gift, Sankofa.

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_Summer has arrived at MHI. It was only 7:00am and we were already feeling the intense heat of the sun as a woman arrived at the clinic in active labor. Though her contractions were strong she seemed grateful to finally be doing the necessary work. She’d spent the night in the dome a week ago thinking that it was her time only to have labor stop.

We settled her in the dome and began preparing for her birth. Sweat was pouring down all of our bodies, hers most of all as her contractions intensified. The mother asked if she could birth outside. It was a beautiful quiet Sunday morning. We rigged up some sheets to give her privacy. She was without family as her husband is a preacher and needed to be at church. We took turns massaging and encouraging her.

Before long the woman’s voice changed and we knew she would soon begin to push. Her membranes ruptured revealing copious dark meconium. Baby’s fetal heart tones were normal and since we could tell birth was imminent, we prepared the equipment to help the baby if needed. The woman really wanted to be sitting upright as she began to push so Melinda got behind her to hold her up. Soon Melinda needed support and she asked my daughter, who was working in the garden to lend us her back. Tara positioned herself with her back against Melinda’s and pushed against the concrete wall with her feet and hands.

As the baby’s head emerged, Kari, the student midwife and myself acted quickly to suction, unwrap the umbilical cord and get the baby up to her Mama’s waiting arms. The baby was slow to start but came around thanks to our combined skill. I felt all of us praying, each in her own spiritual way as we welcomed baby Esther. As she began to come into her own her little voice joined the chorus of distant voices singing in their morning worship service.

Women helping women birth their babies is as ancient as our existence. What a privilege it was to be a part of baby Esther’s arrival. She is another beautiful light in our world.

Kathi Mulder, CPM. Volunteer Midwife at MHI, Jacmel, Haiti