Ega's Baby: The Story PART 2

With no appetite, Ega stayed alone while the other men wanted a ride into town for a bite to eat (although well after midnight, it was market day in Abomey and the town was still bustling with energy). Upon our return, Ega informed us that Lokadi had just been taken to the operating room.

OBSERVATION: although a much more modern facility, I couldn’t help but quietly chuckle as I soon realized that although sterility was a priority, sometimes your facility just does not permit what we might expect in America. Within five minutes, we saw how another patient was transferred from the maternity ward to the operation room. OUTISDE! No connecting hallways necessitate the exterior passage along the sidewalk to the operating room on the other side of the hospital campus (probably 200 yards away). Just a humorous observation from a modern American point of view.

At some point, the security guard, who was not around when we returned from town, rode in on his bicycle with a blue plastic bowl with a lid. Ega thanked the generous man for his effort and just said that the nurse came out and told him to go get one in the market. Later we would find out why (some of you already can guess).

I couldn’t sit down much, eager to hear some faint baby cry somewhere coming from the operating room building. I prayer-walked around that building so many times, eagerly anticipating some news very soon. Throughout the waiting game, a nurse would from time to time walk out with a yellow piece of paper with a list of supplies or medicines necessary at that very moment. Here, you are NOT billed afterward, but rather each medicine or supply is purchased upfront at the hospital pharmacy upon request. Many trips to the pharmacy and then to the cashier window to pay. Finally a nurse, with evidence on his white smock of a perhaps completed operation, called for the blue bowl. Ega quickly turned it over to Ferdinand, a brother in Christ, who I then followed to see what they were going to do with it. I could see the nurse and Ferdinand talking through the open window (sterility is relative) and then I got a good view of the necessity of the blue bowl with its blue lid. The placenta.

Either not having the means for proper disposal, or more likely respecting the wishes of each family or clan’s desire to depose of the placenta according to their tradition, the hospital allows the family to take home the placenta! I found myself staring as they transferred it from the operating room basin to this simple blue plastic bowl with a lid (thank goodness for the lid). Later, it was given to Ega who simply put it on the floor next to where he was sitting. Obviously this overly-hygienic American was the only one a little squeamish about this whole thing (I’ve since heard many people in America do this same thing….sorry, it never occurred to me to ask for it).

A while later, I asked one of the other men what they were going to do with the placenta. “We’ll take it home later” (meaning, IN MY CAR!) According to traditional pagan ceremony, the placenta is sealed in a glass jar, then buried a few feet underground at the entrance to either the house or the mother’s room. This is supposed to ward off evil spirits. Ega confirmed to me that while he didn’t need to bury it for such protection, he would maintain it in a glass jar (see-through, mind you) for at least a year until “it breaks down and becomes like sand” (his description) at which time they would depose of it properly in the ground (he said if they put it in the ground now, dogs would come around and dig it up). Lovely thought.

OK, back to the night at hand. Somewhere around 2am, when Ferdinand exited with the placenta in the blue plastic bowl, I asked, “so, is it a boy or a girl?” He shrugged his shoulders and said, “Oh, I don’t know, should I ask?” I gave him my American “of course!” look and he later returned with the surgeon himself. The surgeon, I guess not wanting to tell this young single man the news, came out and took one look at me, and rather puzzled asked, “is this the father?” Then half-joking asked, “oh, the future husband?” I knew then it must be a girl!! We ran back and told Ega who was probably honestly more concerned about the health of his wife than about the sex of the child. You could see the burden flee and Ega’s famous smile returned in an instant!

The next day, Ega told me that after the surgery, Lokadi remained in the operating facility recovery room. Puzzled as well by what I already knew, I said, “Yes, I knew that.” He proceeded to thank me for what I did. “Ega, what did I do?” Then he said, “I was talking with the surgeon later on after you left, and he inquired about the white man who was walking around the operation room building during the operation. I told him you were our missionary and that you were probably praying. He told me he was a believer and was impressed that you would be there in the middle of the night to help a poor man like me. Because of you, Randy, he said, rather than sending Lokadi to the normal recovery room, she got to stay in the one that is reserved for the rich people…it was even air-conditioned!” He was so happy and thrilled about that and I couldn’t help but thank God and laugh at the same time.

An hour or so after the surgery was complete, we got our first glimpse of this precious BIG baby girl (a little over 8 lbs). Ega, who was now the one cracking jokes, said, “I think we should give her the name, “big headed girl.” Our whole group prayed so much, giving thanks to God for showing Himself faithful in a time of intense crisis. To see the healthy girl before our eyes, we were witnessing the power of God. Ega wished us well as we loaded into the car about 6 o’clock (we had been ready to go about 4:30a, but we were warned that bandits were infamous for stalking the highway between Abomey and home). It was an exhausting evening and long night, but as I write this several days later, I ponder God’s provision for such a dear friend like Ega. While he had some money saved, what if we hadn’t been here in Benin at this time in our lives? Or what if I had refused or even said I didn’t have enough to take care of the bill? Even the night we were there, we heard of a woman who had come whose husband or family didn’t have the money (the nurse confirmed that the lady later died). Sobering. Humbling. Amazing.

Having named Ega’s son born a few years ago, he had already asked us weeks ago to consider a name for this child. Kelly I think has got a good one (we won’t announce it to Ega for several weeks until an official naming ceremony is performed). It is Tori’s middle name, Lael (lay-el). A named mentioned in the Bible (Nu 3.24), its Hebrew meaning is “belonging to God.” I think it is a perfect name for this child born by obvious miraculous intervention of God’s mighty hand.