I barreled down the mountain, outrunning a slow moving truck, trying to escape its exhaust fumes and praying its brakes worked and it did not squash me as it trundled around the curves. I was going for a hike/run up the road behind the hospital when I got a call on my phone from the maternity ward. "She is having strong contractions and feels like she needs to push. Do you want to come?" I was already wearing my scrub dress to run in so I didn't need to change and literally ran to the ward. When I arrived, sweat dripping off me, the woman I had admitted the night before with pre-term labor had contractions that returned with a vengeance despite the medications I had tried using to slow things down. She had never been seen at our clinic and had only scant records from elsewhere. At best guess she was 26 weeks pregnant. In the US, babies born 3 1/2 months premature often live but have a fairly high mortality rate and he risk of complications as they fight for their life is astronomical. Here in Togo, the chance of survival before 28 weeks is slim to none, and HBB is probably the only hospital in the country where these babies even stood a chance. Yes, babies. I did an ultrasound when she first came in and found not one but two little ones nestled up inside her.
In a classic case of hurry up and wait, the babies stayed in for another couple of hours while mom had frequent strong contractions. Finally and suddenly they popped out. Each weighing less than 1 kilo (the bigger of the two weighed 2 pounds), they looked more like pink aliens than children.
The pediatrician was right there to help and each baby cried as she emerged, a good sign that they have at least a chance.
The odds are most definitely not in their favor but fortunately we know that mathematical odds are of no consequence to our Creator. I pray that He will be glorified through this and that He may spare the lives of one or both of them. Pray with me for these previous ones in the upcoming days and weeks.
