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| Zachary Louis Potter |
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| The pants I was wearing... if you are looking for the dry spot, there isn't much of one except the sides |
We had just finished making predictions on his arrival day,
weight and length, as well as name at dinnertime with the Rices when I received
a call from the maternity that they needed help evaluating a couple of laboring
patients in the maternity. Dr. Jen and I walked over around 8pm on our way back
to our house. Ryan and Sydney continued on. We were in the midst of the second
exam and evaluation when I felt like I lost control of my bladder. I didn’t
move, but kept talking to the medical student and resident, hoping that I could
hide the fact that I just peed on myself and we could slip away in the darkness
and get home where I could change. It just kept coming, and I kept being in
denial, until water was literally dripping into my shoe from my pant leg. So I
nonchalantly told Jen and the others that I thought maybe my water had broken.
Jen looked down and laughed. The medical student had to be told several times because
he was incredulous. We were in the delivery room, but I wasn’t having many
contractions. The other medical staff left and Jen checked to see if it was
true. Indeed it was obvious to everyone but the one in denial-> me. I was
only 2cm so we decided to head back home to wait for labor.
Nancy came up to sleep so we’d have childcare when the time
came. Ryan and I contemplated watching a movie, but at this point, I didn’t
need distraction because I wasn’t having frequent nor strong contractions. I
felt tired so I decided to sleep… or at least try. My mind raced with the
amount of unfinished business we had left to do the next day. Thursdays are
prenatal clinic day as well as obstetric and gyn ultrasounds, so there were
patients planning on coming to see me for plans of action, etc during our
scheduled surgery day on Friday. I made mental notes to discuss these with Jen.
And finally went to sleep, fitfully and interrupted, but at least I slept.
Jen was surprised to wake in the morning after getting a
full night’s rest. She checked me before heading off to see patients and do
surgery. I was 4cm. With very few contractions overnight, that was encouraging.
As she left, she reminded me, “95% of patients with premature rupture of
membranes deliver without any intervention in 28 hrs. Let me know!”Around 10am,
I started keeping track of the contractions on my phone, while getting a few
things ready, responding to email etc. Sydney was playing with Nancy. At
11:30am, I texted Jen in the operating room that I felt like things were
getting stronger with contractions about every 6-7min. She came at 12:30pm and
checked—I was 6cm. She returned back to the OR and I started getting ready to
go to the hospital. The contractions came strong and frequent every 1-2 minutes
from that point on.
It was hot at mid-day, when most people are resting and work
stops. I told Ryan to quickly eat lunch but that I wasn’t hungry. I instead
took a shower, cold and dribbling, to get cooled off before we headed down to
the hospital. I texted a fellow female doctor named Lauren that I thought I
might need help getting from our house to the hospital. I was starting to get
that same sinking feeling that I’d had with Sydney that maybe I’d waited—again—too
long. But she had just checked less than an hour ago and I was 6! I told Ryan I
needed to start walking. He quickly gathered up the duffel bag we had full of
emergency/hospital supplies. I was at our front gate when I saw Tim riding his
bike up to check on me. He looked a bit confused/worried when he saw me walking
alone, but I assured him that Ryan was right behind me. The sun beat down on us
as we made the 5 minute walk in only 15 minutes, stopping for contractions and
hoping it was in a shady spot of the walk. Lauren met us about halfway down the
path. She had figured it had taken her too long to find someone to watch her
only 5 wk old infant and come so she had gone directly to the maternity and was
now searching for me on the road. I had told her and several others, “It’s ok
to have the baby at home (cause that means it went quick) or at the hospital,
but just not on the road!!” I was grateful to see her and have an extra support
person. I had just been the same for her 17 hr labor just 5 weeks prior. I was
also happy that the usually crowded path had only a few people selling produce
now due to the mid-day sun, so I was a bit less of a spectacle.
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| Patches of shade on the road to the hospital |
We made it to the maternity room, and to my surprise, there were
quite a few nurses still around when normally there are just a couple who are
staying for emergencies over the lunch break. This included two of the head
nurses. I think perhaps they were waiting for me. It was no secret that my
water had broken the night before, and there is definitely no HIPPA (privacy
law) here- people talk about your business as much as they please. They busied
themselves setting up the cloth privacy screens as the delivery room has 3
delivery beds (more like platforms or halves of beds) and 1 labor bed in the
same room. There are also plenty of windows because natural sunlight is how
they work most of the time.
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| Three delivery beds. Like the three bears: small, med, and large :) |
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| The bed I chose was the large one, complete with privacy curtains, the sink on the right and the floor drain for cleaning up afterwards |
I asked someone to run and get Jen out of surgery,
and quickly. And for the medical students to leave, all of them. Suddenly, I
felt another contraction come and the urge to push, and Jen was not there yet.
We realized that we had sent nonessential people away and now there was no one
to go tell Jen not to delay. We looked around. Tim was essential as
pediatrician. Ryan was essential as the father. Lauren was essential as my unofficial
doula. And the nurses left were the ones who knew where medications and equipment was. Finally, I think Tim went running
off and to my relief, Jen was there for the next contraction. My other closest
Congolese friend (besides Lauren) was with Jen as a translator, and mentioned
that she needed to go back up to her house for a second. I said, “Don’t leave. The
baby is coming now!” So she stayed, Kathy Rice arrived in the nick of time, and
less than a minute later he was born! It was 1:30pm. We’d been there for about
15 minutes. I didn’t get vitals taken or give a medical history or anything—course
they all knew me to some extent.
My favorite moment was turning around to look at him for the
first time. I immediately said, “oh he looks like me!” delighted as Sydney definitely
resembled her daddy. Jen gave him to me and we breathed a sigh of relief that
everything had gone smoothly, and everyone had gotten there in time. Ryan
commented, “Well, she (meaning me) is two for two. I know when she says she
needs to go to the hospital NOW, she really means it, and probably should have
gone a half an hour earlier!” We took pictures as he snuggled back into a ball
on my stomach, and after several minutes we clamped and cut the cord. There is
an open drain in the floor next to the delivery bed, and a couple of people
poured water over me as my shower J.
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| Family selfie |
We transitioned into the room adjacent which is private and
was supposed to have been the new maternity OR (which still has yet to
function, side note). But we got to rest for several hours there on a mattress
they laid down and entertain a few visitors, drink orange fanta and eat mint
M&Ms (specially imported for me by Jen from my mom). One thing I noticed
culturally is that birth is a very spiritual experience here. Every one of the
Congolese said, in effect, “Praise God. Glory to God. Thank you Jesus. Praise
God.”Every. One. From the first moment he was out, and the first moment they
got to see his face when visiting. It was a great testimony and something I’ll
treasure about his birth.
Sydney came down with Nancy about an hour after he was born.
She was very excited to hold and snuggle him, though at times her emotions made
her a little too intense for holding gently. After some great family time, we
heard thunder in the distance and approaching (it is still rainy season after
all). I had been resisting the idea of getting driven home in a vehicle. I
mean, it’s a 5 minute walk in normal circumstances and none of the Congolese
ladies have the luxury of a vehicle for their much much longer walk home. But I
finally agreed, especially with the impending storm and not wanting Zack out in
the rain just yet.
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| First family pic |
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| Checking out his toes |
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| Checking out his eyes |
We walked out to the vehicle with assistance from the
nursing staff and a couple of medical students. As we walked out, a general
buzz started and by the time I made it to the vehicle (perhaps 15 yards),
people were pouring out of everywhere to see the white baby that was just born.
Perhaps 100 people from the maternity to the post-surgical ward to the families
staying in the courtyard to the pediatrics patients. They were all waving
excitedly and cheering. Also something I’ll cherish, although I was very glad
to be able to get away from the crowd by getting into the vehicle to drive
home. I can’t imagine at my slow pace how many people would have paraded up to
our house.
We got inside before it started to downpour. Rain is a sign
of blessing here in Congo, and it certainly was a welcome relief from the heat.
Tim and Kathy brought up a quiche for dinner for us, and we celebrated the day.
And around 9pm, our German neighbors and their two visitors showed up at our
back door, singing happy birthday to Zachary. Despite the hubbub and the
community excitement, they were unaware of his birth until they checked
Facebook just before the internet turned off. So they promptly came over to
greet him. Oh the irony!
And now for the significance of his name. He is named after
one of our mutual friends from college named Zachary (Zack) Saint. He was
influential in Ryan’s first lonely semester in college, showing him how
friendships should be more important than getting perfect grades and achieving
for achievement sake, how being there for someone can make a bigger impact in
the world than increasing one’s GPA by a
fraction. He is the reason that Ryan decided to become a part of the Kappa Zeta
Chi (KZX) society at LeTourneau. He and Ryan were likely to have been
co-captains of the soccer team during Zack’s senior year, but he unfortunately
suffered a relapse of childhood leukemia. They anticipated his return the
following semester, but received the news in January that he wasn’t doing well.
A large group of guys piled in a van and started a cross-country roadtrip from
East Texas to Pennsylvania, in the middle of a week of classes just as Zack
would have done for them. They got a call when they were still a few hours away
that he had gone to be with Jesus. But his legacy remains, alongside the legacy
of his relative Nate Saint who died as a missionary to Ecuador. Our son is not
the first to be named after him. And I doubt the last. Hard to believe it will already be 10 years on February 3.
Our Zack’s middle name comes from Saint Louis, a place that
we left over a year and a half ago but that still is in our hearts. Louis is a
bit less presumptuous than Saint as a chosen name, and reminds us of our
friends and church and work family there.
