The First Baby, Cont.

Finally, it was my patient's turn to deliver, but the baby was slow coming. The mother was only 15 years old. Dr. Fee said her malnutrition and underdeveloped hips, combined with the fact that it was her first baby added up to a long labor. I felt a connection with the young girl, it being each of our first deliveries. I stroked her arm and swollen belly, whispering words of encouragement. She stared up at me with big brown eyes, full of fear and pain, and she cried out for her Mama.

Hours passed, and as Dr. Fee and I waited, the midwife informed the doctor that the girl would need a particular medicine after delivering. I asked Dr. Fee what that meant, and she said that the girl was HIV positive. We had been informed that the HIV rate in this are of Zambia is around 16%, so I wasn't surprised by this news. I wasn't scared either, though I probably should have been. I just wanted the baby to come.

Finally, the baby was close. The girl pulled off her shirt, as it is their custom to give birth naked. I put on sterile gloves and assumed my position between her legs, gently tracing the crown of the baby's head with my fingers. Dr. Fee stood by, calmly instructing me, and before I knew it, I was sliding the baby out. What happened next is a blur.

As the baby slid out, I was hit in the face by a wave of fluid that entered my mouth and eyes. I spat, completely stunned, the baby in my hands. I told Dr. Fee that it was in my eyes and she told me to put the baby down and go wash my eyes out in the sink. I did as I was instructed. I think that it was then, eyes wide open, splashing water into my face, that I began to panic. She was HIV positive and I could get it through my eyes from her amniotic fluid. I began to shake I think. I finished at the sink and walked, stunned, to the crib where Dr. Fee was taking care of the baby - a very, small but apparently healthy baby boy.

I stood there, trembling with silent panic, until Dr. Fee finished. Shaking, I said, "She's HIV positive. I can get it through my eyes." Dr. Fee told me no, no, it was the other woman, the other woman who had been silently moved into the empty second bed who was HIV+, not the girl whose baby I had delivered. I broke at that moment and began to cry. "Are you sure?" I asked her. She checked the girl's papers, and she was negative. I fell onto Dr. Fee's shoulder, crying for only a moment, trying to shake it off as best as I could. I was so afraid. Dr. Fee had a rapid test performed on the girl to confirm her status, and she was HIV negative. For a moment, nothing else mattered besides holding the new baby.

I'm sitting in our cabin now, having showered and rested, and I still feel so shaken, so afraid. I love Africa, but today, I'm ashamed of how much I fear this place.