Dusk was settling in after what had already been a full day when I commotion by the back gate caught my attention. Walking up I saw a large group of our kids peering over one another trying to catch a glimpse of something at the edge of our property. It was a woman who was crouched down on the side of the road facing the remnants of our barbed wire fence. My thoughts immediately raced to what could have left her in this state, was she hurt, was she sick? I questioned the kids for answers in broken (local language) and started to gather from their answers that she was giving birth. I couldn't understand from the kids if the baby had actually come or if it was going to come.
Not quite sure what to do, but not wanting the woman to be alone I walked out and called for the kids to get an adult. An older local woman also came forward to garnish privacy and support. I would love to say that I swooped in and saved the day, but really I was simply there, and humbled to be allowed to witness the birth of a child. The mother was stoic, not a sound was uttered during the entire process. The baby was small and quiet as well. At one point I wondered if it was even alive, but then came the smallest of cries.
Being just down the road from the hospital we weighed the options of how best to relocate both mom and baby. It was finally decided to wait for the medics to come to the scene. Time stood still, as it seems to here when one is waiting for medical attention.
The birthing process finished, the baby was wrapped in a borrowed kapalana (piece of fabric traditionally worn by women as a skirt) and began his lifetime of waiting just like the rest of us.
When the medics finally arrived, one of my friends was among them and recommended to the mother that they should name the child after me. Discovering it was a boy it was decided that my name wouldn't work and instead I was asked to form a variation. I chose Cristiano perhaps as much for the similarity to my name as for the world renown footballer.
Bidding fair well and wishing blessings, I watched as new baby and tired mom were helped into the back of the ambulance. It was an extraordinary night and a moment which will always be remembered.
I wasn't sure if I would ever see them again or if they had actually decided to name him after me. A few days later though I had my answer when mom and newborn arrived on my doorstep. The ninth child in what is evidently a full family I half wondered if I might have accidently adopted the child, but think instead I may have become a surrogate Auntie. I shared a small conversation with the mom in my sad excuse for the local language and was delighted to be able to hold the only few day old bundle of joy. I still don't think I am over how small his hands and feet were. He couldn't have weighed more than 6 lbs. After a short visit and a blessing of fruit, mom and baby were off. Promising to return again, but with no clear time frame.
The baby was name Cristiano. I will happily be his Auntie should we ever meet again.
