That Moment

As of today, April 19, I have had the privilege of being at twenty labours/births since arriving in Olongapo. Sixteen of those have occurred in the past nineteen days. Most have been straightforward, uncomplicated births. Others have required a bit more intervention to ensure the well being of mother and infant. A couple have made me seriously consider a career change to waitressing at Denny's. But each one has resulted in That Moment. That Moment is observed when the mother doesn't know that you are watching her taking in every detail of the new life cradled in her arms. She is etching every minute detail of this brand new little person on her heart. Tracing the creases of the skin, the tiny fingers and nails that gently grasp her own. The infant is likely gazing up on her face, bonding by her touch, her smell, the sound of her voice. Oxytocin is being exuded like perfume, the essence of love thick in the air. Nothing else exists at that moment for either of them. They are both consumed by each other's presence.

I have never been particularly comfortable with women and babies and had never intentionally stopped during my clinical rotations at the hospital to watch That Moment.  I have been much more comfortable finding something to be charted, cleaned or straightened. Perhaps I haven't even been aware of That Moment, consumed with my own insecurities and perceived importance of the tasks at hand. Or perhaps I have intentionally avoided it, not wanting to intrude on such an intimate exchange of knowing and being known.  But since being here, I am being taught to take a conscious and deliberate pause; to acknowledge the miracle of birth and life and this bond between two unique individuals that goes beyond words. Without even knowing it, my own heart has been softened and enchanted by the exchange between mother and newborn. I am learning to love something that goes beyond my personal experience and understanding; to deeply appreciate something that has absolutely nothing to do with me.