life, love, and moving forward.

All of this time spent traveling alone is making my mind go crazy. Thinking of everything I’ve seen, experienced, been a part of in the last year. The people I have loved. Sometimes too much. Sometimes too little. The mistakes I made. The things I wish I had done differently… things I could have done better. I’d like to say that I have no regrets… but I’m not sure that that is entirely true. I could have done many things differently, and perhaps better… but I think I can be at peace because I did my best. And I gave my all. I hope I can forgive myself. I hope I can forgive the people and situations that caused me pain. I have learned plenty this year. So much that I can’t quite take it all in. I’m still waiting to absorb it and implement it. my heart feels so full. Almost heavy.

How can I ever go back to a normal life?? Before, the overwhelming challenges that women and children face in the developing world was little more than a document on my computer screen filled with statistics and graphs.. it gripped my heart, but it wasn’t real to me. now, I have been there. I have seen the faces of mothers in their most vulnerable state. In their time of most desperate need. I have stood with them and breathed with them through the painful contractions up until delivery. I’ve rejoiced, celebrated and cried tears of joy together with them as they held their newborn baby for the very first time. I have mourned with mothers who lost their babies and labored for hours in vain. I have looked into the eyes of Indian women who so desperately wanted and needed to have a son, but failed to produce one and would have to face the inevitable disappointment of family members. How do I go back to living in Canada after witnessing these things? After being so confronted with such extreme poverty and injustice? My time in Tanzania and india involved more than just witnessing injustice… my experiences in these places have become a part of my story. The pain and struggle of the women in these nations is now my own personal tragedy. I have lived it, walked through it, felt it, and been fully a part of it. So how do I move forward with that pain that is still so real and present inside of me?

After seeing the deaths of so many babies? After passionately fighting for the life of a child, but dealing with the pain of watching them die? I still have names and faces and stories of individual women that come to mind when I think back to Temeke hospital in Tanzania or the maternity hospital in Hyderabad. I feel broken because of what I’ve seen and been through. Because their pain has become my pain. Their story, and their lives have become a part of mine.

The wonderful thing about being an international midwife is that you have the privilege of becoming a part of a nation’s history. Of welcoming the next generation and praying life, hope and value over them. I hope with all of my heart that the prayers I have prayed over babies will somehow make a difference in their lives and in the history of their nations. That they will grow up to be world-changers. That they will influence every sector of their societies and seek to create positive change where it is needed. That they will be passionate lovers and followers of Jesus Christ, not held back by any restrictions of race, class, or gender. Amen. Amen. Amen.