Hello!

Hello!
My name is Autumn Buzzell and I live and work in Ghana, West Africa with City of Refuge Ministries. Here, I run our school, Faith Roots International Academy, and get to be a part in rescuing and the healing of children who have been trafficked into the fishing trade, orphaned, abandoned, and those who just need a little extra loving. What an amazing gift this life is!

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Monday, August 16, 2021

My Birth Story: Jace Nathanael "Kojo" Acheampong

 It's hard to believe that our Ava is 17 months old and we are staring down into the small eyes of our 2 1/2 week old baby boy.  With Edwin and Malvin both in their pre-teen crazies as 12 year olds who are currently on their Term 2 break from school, this season is keeping us busy.  It has left little time for sitting down in front of my computer to type up my reflections of my birth experience with our Jace, between keeping up with a toddler to keeping the boys entertained and keeping this little one fed (he is quite the eater)!  In small moments, I have been able to get a paragraph or two at a time put down throughout the past week, so here you go...the story of our amazing boy's birth, Jace Nathanael "Kojo" Acheampong.

Richard and I knew that we wanted our kids to be pretty close in age, however we were surprised to find we were pregnant only eight months after Ava was born.  We had just assumed that it would take a few months once we started trying towards baby #2, but we were pregnant the very first month we tried!  November 2020, we had an eight month only baby girl and baby #2 was on his way!

Jace's pregnancy was so much easier than Ava's.  With Ava, I was sick, throwing up multiple times a day, for 19 weeks, and then after that, once every morning when I woke up until the day she was born.  I also had pretty bad swelling in my ankles which made it uncomfortable to do much standing or much sitting for any length of time.  I had extremely high anxiety and was so worried about the birth, fears about her health once she was born, and so many many many emotions.  Richard dealt with me like a pro!  But, Jace was another story.  I was sick a couple of times during the first trimester, but mostly just felt like my energy was sapped and that nothing really tasted super great those first few weeks.  Beyond my first trimester, I felt pretty good.  I, overall, had good energy, kept up with Ava despite my growing size, and worked through until right before my family arrived in Ghana!  Richard kept commenting how easily I took to being pregnant, and it was such an easier pregnancy than before, especially my frame of mind as I wasn't overwhelmed with anxiety and felt more confident in the process before me.  

At 20 weeks, we announced on social media

My prenatal care experience was a little different than with Ava as well.  With Ava, I primarily met with an OBGYN for each appointment and had one midwife work with me during the prenatal and birth of our baby girl.  With Jace, we met with a team of midwifes at our hospital.  It was a constant rotation of midwifes and usually a different person each week.  They were all overseen by our OBGYN, so we occasionally met with him as well to ensure that everything was going as planned.  This was sometimes hard for me as each time, I had to explain again about certain parts of my pregnancy to a new midwife each week and there wasn't the consistency of one caregiver.  Near the end of my pregnancy, a midwife was assigned to me to work with me until the baby was born.  She was an older midwife with lots of experience working as a midwife in the government sector.  She was kind and we connected over ministry work as she also served in her church, but she was a bit rough around the edges, used to the harsher environment of the government hospital.  Her experience outweighed her rough edges and we were glad to have someone with considerable experience ready to help us bring our baby boy into the world.  I was a little hesitant, but Richard helped me to turn my fears and worries into prayers towards a healthy delivery of our little man.

At around 38 weeks, I started to have a few Braxton Hicks contractions, especially at night.  With Ava, I had NO SIGNS of oncoming labor, so I got really excited.  The baby began to settle down really low in my hips and each week I met with the midwife, they would comment on how low he was.  I was sure this little man was going to come before his due date, July 22.  With my mom, sister, and niece scheduled to arrive just a couple of days before my due date, we began to prepare for our little man's arrival apart from my family being here.  However, he clung in there.  Laying low in my hips, giving me little sleep at night, and still we waited.

39 weeks and counting

And then, for the big surprise...
My family's scheduled arrival on July 19 finally came and Richard headed to the airport with Johnbull to pick everyone up.  I was at home with the kids and though they were stuck in traffic for quite some time, they made it back to CORM that afternoon.  I was so excited to welcome my mom, sister, and niece.  They were thrilled to see Ava and she willingly gave hugs all around, which is usually hard for her to do with people she doesn't know.  We all shared hugs by the time John's car pulled up and out came MY BROTHER CHRIS, SISTER-IN-LAW JENN, and NEPHEW KAYDEN!!!  I was blown away that they were in Ghana, that they pulled off such a big surprise, and that they were here, after all these years!  I was so excited, surprised, and thrilled!

The Buzzell-Bowens-Acheampong Crew (minus the boys who were in school)

Of course, with the whole family here, there was now a lot of pressure for baby boy to make his appearance.  We spent the days chatting and catching up, filled with games and laughter and memory-making.  The evenings were spent walking the basketball court and praying this little guy would come before everyone had to take off.  In the waiting, we had a few different adventures to fill the time.  The family spent one day in Accra going to one of our big markets, Makola, while I went in for my 40 week check-up.  They bought fabric and could have spent all day looking and experiencing the craziness of our busy open-air markets.  I, on the other hand, had a quick check to see if I was dilated (my least favorite part of the birthing process--those cervical checks) and was disappointed to discover that I was only one centimeter dilated and my cervix hadn't thinned at all.  The doctor stripped my membranes in hopes to get things moving along and they sent me home with directions to keep walking and squatting!  The next day, we took the whole family to Stone Lodge, where Richard and I got married.  Everyone swam, we enjoyed a fabulous lunch, and then we toured around, showing them where we exchanged "I do's", talked about my own mini-vacay to Stone Lodge after getting engaged, and made new memories.  We snapped a million photos and everyone got a little toasty under the Ghana-sun.



Sunday, I began to feel some contractions coming on.  I had lost my mucus plug and was hoping that labor was on the way.  We all celebrated the possible birth of our little guy as Chris, Jenn, and Kayden were leaving the next day and we all wanted them to get to meet our little man before they left.  We walked and walked, timing the contractions.  We talked to our doctor and midwife, letting them know that contractions had started, though they were fairly far apart.  By the time we were heading inside for the evening, the contractions were pretty regular, but not too intense.  We debated if it was time to go to the clinic to be checked or if we should try to sleep a little before things got harder.  As we talked it through, the contractions got farther apart, and that seemed to give us our answer.  We pulled out all our things we needed for the hospital, set it all down by the door, and then headed to bed.  I was so relieved to get some extra rest and fell quickly to sleep with very little interruption throughout the night from the contractions.  By 4am, they started up again, this time with more intensity.  I began to time them and realized they were about 6 minutes apart and quite painful.  I got up to walk around the living room a bit and Richard followed.  We ended up deciding to head in when they hit 5 minutes apart.  We called ahead to let them know we were coming in, but our midwife let us know that she had something going on that day, so she would come in and check me out and then take off for awhile and hopefully be back in time for the delivery.

When we arrived at the clinic, they brought us into the delivery room, a small, narrow room with a bed and various equipment needed to assess the baby upon birth, and a small bathroom.  There was hardly room for more than three people to stand, but my sister, Richard, and I all piled in with the midwife, hoping that things were progressing well.  After being checked, they let me know that I was only at a two and still no thinning.  Immediately, they wanted to administer Pitocin to get things moving faster.  I pleaded with them to let me go home to labor at home, but they said that the position of the baby was very low and they wanted to do regular checks on his heartrate to ensure that he was doing ok.  Again, they began to prep my hand for an IV and I asked if I could at least be given a measure of time to try to give birth as naturally as possible.  After Andrea and Richard stepped in with some convincing, I was told that I could spend the day walking around and try to progress naturally.  They wanted to monitor the baby every hour and they would check me every four hours for progress.  They wanted to see me progress one centimeter per hour to continue to move forward naturally.  We asked if we could be moved to another room to labor in as this room was so small, but there wasn't another one available, so our options were to labor outside, at the clinic's children's playground area, or remain in the tiny room.  

Relieved, Andrea, Richard, and I left the small room and headed outside.  We walked circles around the playground area, feeling very familiar with last year's same experience (though I was induced to start labor that time around).  I climbed the stairs of the playground set over and over.  I tried different positions to help encourage labor (thank you YouTube) both in the room and out on the playground.  I did endless numbers of squats.  We took breaks every now and then for snacks and drinks.  I didn't want to have tummy issues during delivery, so I kept it light with some trail mix and water.  After the first four hours, they checked me and I was only at a three.  I was so disappointed, but we headed out for more walking and squatting.  Chris, Jenn, and Kayden stopped by with Johnbull and JJ as they had to head out to the airport.  Alas, they didn't get to meet our baby boy in person (but hopefully sometime soon!).  It was so nice to get to say goodbye to them, even though I had to give hugs between contractions.  As it got closer to the next four hour mark, I was getting a little tired and my legs where shaking a bit from all of the stairs and squats.  Richard and Andrea suggested I try to rest a little in the room, and going inside slowed the contractions down as I wasn't moving as much, but it was helpful to get a little rest as the next check brought the disappointing news that I was only at a 5 and they were wanting to induce.

The contractions were quite painful at that point; I felt overwhelmed with anxiety at the thought of another Pitocin-birth as it was quite challenging with Ava; and I began to cry, wondering if I had it in me to do it all over again.  I felt like I wasn't given much of a choice in continuing to labor naturally as they were worried about my stamina to continue after it had already been close to 12 hours of strong contractions and I was a bit worn down.  When I began to cry, the midwife told me that I just had to change my thinking in that moment because the baby was coming and there wasn't any "I can't" allowed in that moment.  

As soon as the Pitocin hit my system, I ended up having one long contraction that lasted about 5 solid minutes and was super strong in intensity.  There was very little lag time between the build up of each contraction following that long first one and they seemed to grow in intensity each time they built.  Due the small size of the room and the need for me to be laying on my left side, I had to be face to face against the wall.  With the intensity of the contractions, I needed to grip someone's hand and at the same time, have someone also press on my back as the contractions brought lower back pain that was unreal.  I tried as much as possible to breathe through each contraction without making any extra noise, but each contraction came on stronger than the one before and before 30 minutes had passed, I felt the need to start to push.  

This was the space with Ava's birth that I had hated the most.  It was so intensely hard...to breathe through the bodies' need to push because the baby wasn't fully past the cervix.  And here I was again, needing to push and all my body bearing down to move the baby out, yet being told not to push and to simply breathe through it.  I struggled through every breath, praying that each feeling of bearing down was working to get him closer because it was so hard not to push...so so hard.  Richard was in my ear, reminding me not to push and to breathe.  Andrea was there encouraging me through.  When I asked them to pray, they prayed.  When I asked for them to bring in some worship, they brought in all the right songs to help me battle through the moment.  I feel like, in some ways, they battled just as hard for me as I was battling because the 30 minutes I was on Pitocin was so so hard.  Finally, when I just couldn't hold it anymore, they told me to push.  I gave one push, but my position wasn't quite right and so they moved me around a bit and told me to push again and in that second push, he came out all at once, with a loud boisterous cry!

He is finally here!

Relief--it is the most amazing feeling when the baby is out.  All the pain just suddenly stops and there he is, laying on your belly--this long-awaited for child.  I got to look at him and hold him and cherish him and his safe arrival and after a bit, they took him over to be weighed and measured.  And the next part of my "delivery" began...


With Jace in the little evaluation station next to me, the midwife went to work delivering my placenta.  I don't remember this part of the process with Ava's birth, so it was kind of fascinating to pay attention to this time around.  The midwife pressed on one point in my abdomen and suddenly a contraction came.  She asked me give a little push and out came my placenta with a whoosh!  

With Ava, I was taken into another room to be sewn up as I had a second degree tear with her.  With Jace, I had torn where I did with Ava and then a little more.  But, they just brought the nursing staff and janitorial staff in to clean up while they began doing what they needed to do to repair my tear.  Unfortunately, it was not a pleasant experience for me. It was a little hard to maintain the position they needed as the bed was covered in fluids, but they kept at it and Richard helped hold my slippery foot in place.  Beyond that, the hormone shakes were causing my whole body to shiver, so they covered me in a blanket to calm the shakes.  Even though they had used lidocaine, it wasn't enough to completely numb the area and it was quite painful.  The lighting in the room wasn't super great, so while I needed to hold someone's hand to push through the pain, I looked up to see that Richard and a whole series of nurses where using their phone flashlights to help guide the midwife through the stitching.  Andrea, in the meantime, got booted from the too-small room as more staff had entered (2 helping with the baby, and maybe 3 nurses plus Richard with their phones down at the end of the bed with the midwife).  The janitor got moved up to hand-holder in a moment's notice as I reached out to someone in a particularly painful moment and she was there to grab a hold of.  I was grateful for her kindness to stick by me through the whole process.  Beyond that, there was also the painful scraping out of the uterus to ensure that no large blood clots were left behind.  This was done three times before the midwife was satisfied that I was good to go.  It was an incredibly painful and a bit overwhelming process for me to have so many people present in such a vulnerable moment, and even more vulnerable to have much of the ongoing conversations happening in Twi, so I only caught moments of what was going on.  There was never unkindness and always encouragement that I was doing well, to keep pushing through, that they were almost done.  I was so grateful for those words as they helped me push through the pain to get to the other side.  I joked when it was all finished that it was like giving birth a second time...that may have been a bit dramatic, but they all laughed at my American dramatics.  I was able to sit up and really hold my little man, so thrilled that he was finally here.

My wonderful janitor friend in the background as I got to hold Jace

Mom and Dad with our newest family member

It is pretty amazing that after such a crazy experience, you can sit up, pull on your adult diapers and walk up two sets of stairs to your room and feel marvelous!  I mean, the pain medicine afterwards is helpful, but in all, the way God created a woman's body to push through that extreme amount of pain to get to extreme joy on the other side of it, it's really unbelievable!  And Jace was perfect!  All of his tiny fingers and toes, his adorable dimples, his face so similar to our little Ava (except for the little birthmarks down his nose).  We fell in love immediately!

He was born at 4:46pm on July 26, 2021.  He weighed in at 3.2kgs which is 7.04lbs and 51cm long which is 21 inches.

Andrea was able to go home to get some rest and spend the night with Harper after we got checked into our room upstairs.  Richard and I marveled at our little fella.  He got started breastfeeding right away (and he hasn't stopped since...he is quite the good little eater...also a big difference from my experience with Ava).  Our first night, he didn't want to stay in his little crib.  We tried swaddling.  We tried bundling him up away from the fan or a/c, but really, all he wanted was to be close to his mama.  He ate a few times in the night, but slept pretty well that first night.  

The next day, our family came to visit to meet little Jace.  We couldn't wait for Ava to see her little brother and grandma was super excited to meet our little man.  I had never spent a night away from Ava since she was born, so I missed her and seeing her that next morning, I just realized how big she was!  I know it was just seeing how tiny Jace was and how much bigger she is than him, but it really was a strange switch in my eyes, seeing her as a big girl now.  Our wild, spunky Ava--I was nervous that she would be so harsh with the little baby, but she was gentle as could be.  She used one finger to touch his soft cheek.  She pressed her little nose to his face, giving whisper kisses on his forehead.  Our big girl, indeed.  She grew up in a moment before my eyes!


There in the hospital, we were able to share the name with our family as we weren't planning on doing the naming ceremony before they left.  Jace Nathanael "Kojo" Acheampong.  Jace is a Hebrew name meaning healer or "The Lord is Salvation".  Jace was a name that Richard has wanted for a long time, even mentioned it before we were married.  Nathanael means "God has given" and there is a story about him meeting with Jesus in the New Testament and him being given a vision of heaven being opened.  Our prayer is that this name will carry Jace into the world, knowing that he belongs to a God who loves him and that he will passionately share that love with others wherever he goes.  We pray that he will have hands that long to heal the brokenness in this world with the love of Jesus.  "Kojo" is the name for boys who are born on a Monday, just like our little guy was!  We love our little Jace Nathanael.

The family stayed for a good portion of the day and before too long, we were evaluated by the doctor on duty and discharged!  We made it home before school was out at CORM, less than 24 hours after our baby boy had been born!

Of course, we were excited for Edwin and Malvin to meet their baby brother, but they seemed quite distanced when they came home, nervous for the new dynamic, I'm sure.  They warmed up before too long though, and have become pro-baby-holders!



The days since his arrival have been a mixture of feeding, eating, sleeping--less sleeping on our part, but we are all surviving!  The first few nights, he slept best on the couch out with mama.  After that, he has grown comfortable in his own little bed between mom and dad.  We are slowly warming him up to the idea of his own little bed in his bassinet.  He loves to eat and mom spends much of her days in the rocking chair feeding him.  It's been a transition with Ava as she has been used to having full access to mama, but we are all adjusting!  She is definitely a daddy's girl these days.  The boys have been out of school as well, so there has been an element of keeping them busy as well.  Being parents to FOUR is no joke!

The postpartum season has looked different from Ava's as well.  I dealt a bit with baby blues and SO MANY HORMONES with Ava.  This time around, I feel much more SANE.  I still get tired and by the afternoon, can feel a little weepy just due to lack of sleep, but overall, feel pretty good this time around.  Physically, I've been healing up well and haven't had some of the issues (so far) that I had last time with Ava's postpartum healing.  It's been a much easier process for me.

We are endlessly grateful!  Grateful to our family who came and served and cooked and cleaned and babysat our kiddos for us, who traveled so far in the midst of COVID craziness to love on us and our kids.  Grateful to our CORM family who loved and supported and brought groceries and helped with transportation at a moment's notice.  Grateful for the team who delivered our boy into this world and took such good care of me in the meantime.  Grateful most of all to God for giving us a beautiful, healthy baby boy.  Endlessly grateful!




Monday, March 23, 2020

My Birth Story: Ava Lynne "Babaa Akosua" Acheampong

The past three years of my life here in Ghana have been drastically different than my previous years...welcoming Edwin and Malvin in my home, falling in love with Richard, getting married, and now having a baby of our own.  Years of prayers and waiting and wondering and questioning, fulfilled in such a short amount of time.

But these answered prayers haven't come easily...each gift that God has given has come with its own challenges and blessings.  Welcoming Malvin and Edwin into my home in 2017 has sanctified me in a whole new way, showing me places where I need to grow and encouraging change in my own life.  Dating in 2018 and getting married in 2019 has been one of the sweetest gifts I have ever received, but it has come with a price.  Marriage does change the other relationships in your life.  And it has been an experience of sanctification and sacrifice all of its own.  Finding I was pregnant only five months after being married brought such excitement for both Richard and I, but it also meant that the majority of our first year of marriage was filled with the emotional roller-coaster that is pregnancy!  And an emotional roller-coaster it was...my first four months with pretty extreme nausea that I thought would never end...then the swollen feet...the low iron...the fatigue...the constant sweating (note to self--Ghana's hot season is February-April)...Richard dealt with it all like a champion!  He handled the tears with so much grace (and there were a lot of tears), spoke truth when needed, and went to all of my doctor's appointments with me (what a champ!). 

Family photos, taken December 2019

By the time that my due date rolled around, February 22, 2020, I was ready to be done being pregnant, but so frightened at the process of giving birth.  I had spent probably 6 months during my pregnancy researching, listening to podcasts, and praying through giving birth naturally.  There was just so much fear involved for me, but knowing that there really wasn't another option as I was giving birth in Ghana and pain intervention isn't given here, I knew that the great challenge I was going to have to overcome was my own fear and the battle that existed in my mind.  In the week before my due date, I spent each morning in my quiet time resting in so many different scriptures that spoke about overcoming fear and trust in a loving Father God. 

While I spent a lot of time preparing mentally, I was also trying to prepare physically with evening walks with Richard on the basketball court, and taking the opportunity to get in some good afternoon naps most days.  While I was anxious in the waiting at times, I look back and realize how good it was to get that time to rest and to prepare my body peacefully. 

My due date came and went without incidence and before I knew it, my family, my mom, sister and niece, safely arrived in Ghana on Sunday, February 23.  We were hoping they would arrive in time for the delivery, and were so grateful that they did.  They brought with them six boxes full of gifts for baby girl and our family.  It was so wonderful to see the overflow of love for our little baby girl!  Going through the boxes was a labor of love over the next few days, as we explored places to put everything, rearranged our bedroom, added space for bottles in the kitchen, and prepared our home for our little baby girl!

Andrea and I with baby girl still hanging out inside!

Monday, February 24, my family, Richard and I all went to the doctor's office for my 40 week check-up (40 weeks, 2 days to be exact).  It was at that appointment, our doctor discussed the possibility of induction the following Saturday had labor not set in.  I was a little upset at the news, wanting to go into labor naturally, if possible.  Because of that, we upped our walking time each day.  I tried to be as active as possible during the day, though I still made time for a daily nap as I often felt tired and overwhelmed by all that was ahead. 

After talking with a few friends and discussing with Richard and my family, the following day, we called our doctor and asked if we could have my membranes stripped prior to the induction on Saturday in hopes that that would move along my labor.  The doctor agreed that was a good option and set up an appointment for early on Wednesday, February 25 with one of the midwifes at the clinic.  I was nervous about the experience, gathering as much first-hand information as possible from my friend Christina who had her membranes stripped with her last baby.  Feeling it was still the best option to get things moving, we went in early that Wednesday morning and waited for our appointment with the midwife.  Upon arrival at our clinic, there was a mad dash of nurses and I saw a quick flash of our midwife as she was helping a laboring mom move from the labor ward to the delivery ward.  She quickly came over and greeted Richard and I and let us know that she was helping to deliver a baby at the moment so she would be over soon to help us.  I was so surprised at that laboring mama walking peacefully to the delivery ward, ready to welcome her baby into the world.  Is this what I would experience in just a few more days?  Awhile later, our midwife led us into the surgical ward at the hospital, having me change into a hospital gown and position myself in the rather precarious chair.  While I knew that it wasn't going to be a pleasant experience, my friend Christina had told me to remember that it wasn't going to last long, so to just persevere through.  That was the best advice I could have received because it was quite a painful procedure, but because I knew it wasn't going to last super long, I was able to endure it.  The midwife let us know that I was only one centimeter dilated.  I still had a long ways to go!

My, perhaps unrealistic, hope was that this would move labor along easily and by the following day, our baby would be here!  While it did create some movement (I lost my mucus plug and had mild contractions that night), labor never intensified, despite my hours of walking, my squats I attempted poolside the next day while my family swam, and despite eating spicy food, pineapple, prunes, and all the rest!  By Friday, February 28, I knew that the induction was inevitable and decided to make the best of my day.  I remember waking up early that morning, around 3 am, as the power was out and the heat made sleep impossible.  I made my way into the living room in the quiet of the morning, turned on some worship music, and spent time praying and singing over our little girl.  I prayed over the labor and delivery.  I prayed over my body.  I prayed for Richard and I as we would transition to parents of a newborn.  I prayed for Malvin and Edwin, that we would be able to help them transition to our new family of five.  I prayed and I cried and I felt at peace.  And then, I just felt tired.  By 5:30, I got the boys up to get ready for school and then I crawled back into bed to grab a few winks before the day began.  When I did wake up at last, my family and I made our way over to the school to see Malvin and Edwin in their spelling bee (they both got out in the first round).  We spent the rest of the day resting and cleaning, preparing for all that was ahead in the next few days.

Swim Day with the Family 

Faith Roots Int'l Spelling Bee

We were scheduled to arrive early at the hospital the following day (Saturday, February 29--leap day), so we wanted an early night of sleep as I was sure it was going to be a long few days.  Malvin and Edwin packed up their things to move over to the Omorefe house for the weekend and to give Richard and I a quiet night together.  Needless to say, we forgot that it was the night of the monthly All-Night Worship and Prayer gathering on campus.  Midnight rolled around and as the loud music seeped from the prayer house into our windows, sleep seemed to come and go.  By the time 4am came, the time the prayer night came to a close, it was time for us to get up and begin getting ready to drive to the hospital.  We were both tired from such a restless sleep, but anxious to get everything started.  My mom, Andrea, and Harper were planning on meeting us at the clinic later in the day, so off we went!

Of course, once we arrived, everything ran a bit more on Ghana-time.  While we were scheduled to check in at 5am, they didn't have the room ready upon arrival and the midwife wasn't going to be available until 7am, so we had some time to rest and reflect and prepare before the induction would begin.  Richard helped me set up the room with a diffuser, organized all our bags of food and games and stuff, while I nervously changed into my newly bought nightgown in preparation for the long haul.  Richard prayed for us and we talked through each and every one of the verses I had been writing down on 3x5 cards over the course of the week.  By the time the midwife came in, we felt a real peace in the room and knew we were ready for all that was ahead.

Our midwife, Bernice, had been assisting with our case over the course of my pregnancy, though we mostly met with our doctor for our regular appointments.  She was always positive and engaging and easy to talk with, which made me at ease when it came to sharing such an intimate experience with someone I don't really know well.  When she arrived, she explained that she would be inserting 1/4th of a pill of cytotek into my cervix to induce labor.  If labor wasn't progressing in four hours time, she would insert another 1/4th of a pill.  The cervical check and insertion, while it was only for a short amount of time, was so uncomfortably painful.  I had made no further progress in my dilation, still only at one centimeter.  But once it was placed, Richard and I ate breakfast and hoped that things would get moving soon. 

By 10am, my family arrived and filled up our little private room with conversation and laughter.  Harper was a source of endless delight and before too long, we made our way outside to the hospital's outside play area.  It provided me with a place to walk without being too conspicuous (a white pregnant lady seems like the center of a lot of stares here in Ghana, but with children occupied with a playground full of toys, I didn't encounter too many stares). 

By the time we were scheduled for our second dose of cytotek, I hadn't felt much difference.  I felt a bit achy in my lower back and felt as if I was having light menstrual cramps, but nothing regular that felt like the waves I had heard about.  My family left to go and get lunch at a nearby restaurant and they checked my cervix again and administered the second dose. I still was only one centimeter dilated.  I was a little bit discouraged as Bernice expressed that they wouldn't administer an additional dose.  If this didn't get things moving, then they would have to result to a c-section, something I desperately didn't want.  However, it did give me some motivation to keep walking as much as possible, and Bernice suggested squats and stair climbing when I had the energy.

After my family returned from the restaurant and we had all eaten a bit, we headed back out to the playground for another round of walking.  Harper was delighted to find a little girl's birthday party was taking place that day.  The playground was full of so many new friends for my social little niece, whom she promptly named all "her sisters" (whether they were boys or girls!).  It was fun watching her play around, but before too long, my contractions began.  I was excited that they had started and that things were finally progressing!  Since I was induced, the contractions were different than if I had gone into labor naturally.  They were every 2-3 minutes apart and about 45 second long from the very beginning.  They weren't super strong to begin with, so they did increase in intensity over time, but they never were spaced out more than those 2-3 minutes apart.  Each contraction sent a wave through my lower back and through my abdomen.  I remember walking circles around the playground, trying to avoid tripping over small children on tricycles and attempting to avoid falling over them as they ran to jump on the trampoline or slide down the slide. 

Harper enjoying bounce time with "her sisters"
A full play area for my labor walks

By 4:30 pm, it was time for another cervical check.  These were some of the least enjoyable parts of the labor process--they were painfully uncomfortable and were somewhat discouraging as they frequently told of my lack of progress rather than my moves forward!  By that time, even though I had had regular contractions for over 2 hours, I had only progressed to two centimeters dilation.  I tried to lay down and get a little nap as I was feeling pretty tired, but with the contractions coming every 2-3 minutes and increasing in intensity, sleep was hard to come by.  I continued to walk and then would come to the room for some cool down with the air conditioning and Richard would assist me in squats.  At this point, I was struggling mentally.  The pain was increasing in intensity, especially in my lower back and I was feeling quite physically tired from the few days during the week that I hadn't slept well and the restless night of sleep before checking into the hospital.  Knowing I was only at 2 centimeters meant that there were hours and hours still before me to get to where I needed to be.  I remember sending out a message to friends to be praying for strength and I felt mind and body weary with so much still lingering in front of me.

By 8:30 pm, my next cervical check showed only one additional centimeter in progress.  While I was now at 3 cm, my cervix was not thinning out much.  However, Bernice told me that she could feel my waters bulging when I was having a contraction.  Though she attempted to break the water sack, baby girl's head was resting too close to the surface and she was unable to break it.  Instead, Bernice wanted me to start walking stairs and to do squats so that it would push baby girl's head more against the cervix to assist in that thinning and dilation process and if I could progress a little further, she would be able to attempt to break the waters again, which should help in moving things along a little faster.  At that point, I was struggling to feel encouraged that this was good news knowing that every four hours only brought one centimeter of change.  How long could I withstand it?  Could I actually do this?  Was I going to have to give in to a c-section to bring our baby into this world? 

My family and Richard gathered around and got me moving.  They would have me walk up the stairs and do 30 squats at the top, walk down to the bottom of the stairs, turn around and do one more set.  Then, I could return to the room for some much needed air conditioning.  Somehow, along the way, Andrea created a little sleeping nook on the floor under the hospital bed for Harper and she was out--oblivious to all that was occurring in and out of our room.  My mom, Andrea, and Richard took turns walking with me, encouraging me when my brain felt like it was foggy from lack of sleep and when my body hurt from the ongoing contractions.  Someone was quick to be at my back providing counter pressure while someone was in front of me reminding me to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.  They took turns reading me my verses.  When I needed to throw up, they somehow found a container for me.  They each found a role, filling in for each other when one grew weary, taking turns offering comfort when my body and my brain couldn't really comprehend what I needed.

As February turned to March, my sister took over my updates.  She wrote:

12:37am: Midwife just broke her water.  She's 4cm.  They are hoping it will progress more quickly now that the water is broken.

Richard helps provide counter pressure and helps me breathe through the contractions--coming with more and more intensity.

1:27am: They put an IV in with sodium chloride to try to speed up labor.  It's pretty intense pain now.  Keep praying!  And they added oxytocin to it.

I was this crazy swing between too hot and too cold, not sure if I should stand or if laying down would feel better.  Andrea and Bernice (along with Richard and my Mom) were by my side pushing me through each contraction.

I remember Andrea looking at me and explaining that Bernice wanted to give me some medicine to speed up the labor.  I felt like I couldn't make the decision for myself--sure, I wanted things to move along faster, but I wasn't sure if I could handle an increase in pain.  My mom later commented that Bernice was quick to assess the situation--observing me to see the strength I had left to put towards bringing our girl into this world.  Each contraction seemed to drain more and more strength from me, my restless night the night before leaving my brain in a fog so that I couldn't keep my eyes open for very long and often felt myself swaying in a dozey state, only to be awakened again in a few moments by the pain in my back and abdomen.  I knew with the addition of more meds would be faster contractions, more intense pain, and with pain in my eyes, I agreed.  Bernice had me climb into bed so that I could get the IV put in, and she rolled me to my left side to make sure that the baby was getting all the oxygen she needed.  The challenge with being on my left side was that it left me facing the wall with limited space for someone to provide the counter pressure I needed.  However, as soon as that medicine hit, everything sped up.  The hardest part of my labor was there, on my left side facing that wall.  Richard lined up to my ear, helping me breathe and providing pressure when a contraction would come on.  My mom's voice was somewhere behind me reminding me not to push, but to breathe.  And my sister's voice was counting as I breathed.  Bernice, down below, was monitoring my progress.

So tired, but trying to breathe...

After the IV went in, my labor intensified drastically.  I went from six cm dilated to ten cm dilated in about thirty minutes.  At that point, it wasn't the contractions that hurt so bad, it was the overwhelming desire to push.  My whole body screamed PUSH, but Bernice calmly kept telling me that I wasn't ready to push--I would hurt myself if I tried to push now.  However, I didn't know how to stop it...the contraction would come like a wave and I would start to pant--in through the nose and out through the mouth--and then a guttural grunt would pour from my throat as I tried so hard not to push.  My mom kept repeating, "Don't waste your energy on all the noise...just breathe".  But it was as if my body couldn't help it...the need to push kept coming and the longer I kept it at bay, the harder it was to breathe through.  The guttural grunt screaming past my vocal chords, while Richard spoke in my ear, "Breathe--in--out--in--out".  The reminder that I needed until the next contraction came.  My energy sapped and any movement at all felt like it took immense effort, Bernice asked me to roll to my back for a final check.  I heard her wonder if we would make it to the delivery room, but there was no way THIS mama was getting up and walking down the hallway to that room for the baby to come.  It was happening in this room and that was it...

I remember hearing my mom telling me that they were getting the baby's things ready as they pushed and pulled me this way and that to position me and prepare for baby girl's arrival.  Finally, they said it was time to push and I was so relieved that I didn't have to hold it back anymore.  They moved the bed away from the wall so that Andrea could help me hold one leg and Richard grabbed the other.  Bernice got their attention as she showed them that our baby's head was right there.  As the next wave crashed over me, I pushed with all my might--my mom again reminding me to save my voice as I continued to grunt my way through and Richard counting the breathing with me as I pushed.  When the contraction ended, Bernice asked if she could give a small episiotomy, but I asked her instead if I could just tear instead, knowing from my research that tears tended to recover easier.  She was willing and let me know that the next contraction was the one!  As it rolled over me, I began to push and suddenly, I knew her head was out and with one more push, she was there.  Bernice grabbed her and pulled up my nightgown so baby girl could get skin to skin right away.  She was here!

Our sweet girl is here!

I was so exhausted, so I had so little recollection of what was going on at the time.  I remember her being put on my belly and getting to hold her and look at her face while they suctioned her out and did a little wipe down of her skin.  I remember saying, "Hi, baby girl!".  She made some small crying noises, but she wasn't very loud.  She was so little and I kept thinking, "I did it!  I just can't believe I did it!".  I got to hold her while they delivered my placenta and suddenly, it was all done...the pain was over...the intensity gone.  All I felt was sweet relief and an overwhelming love for my husband, my family, and this little girl.  I even remember seeing Harper up and around in those sweet moments after the birth.  I don't know when she woke up to join the party, but her curious little face was watching and observing everything excited to meet her "baby cousin", as she lovingly referred to her.

Due to my tears (I had a second degree tear and several smaller ones), I had to be separated from her for awhile while they took her to be weighed and measured.  I was taken into that same room that I had my membranes stripped to be sewn up.  They wheeled me into the room, but the adrenaline shooting through my body was making me shiver uncontrollably.  They covered me in a blanket to relieve the shivering, but climbing into the chair was incredibly uncomfortable.  The repairs took over an hour, but Richard stood by my side, holding my hand and comforting me when it was painful, encouraging me, and even making me laugh at points.  It was a strange experience because while it was a painful to get the tears sewn up, I was longing to be with my girl, just in the room over.  My mom was with her while they weighed and measured her.  I could hear her little cries and longed to be there, but I knew soon enough, we would be together.



When the repairs were finally finished, probably over an hour later, we were finally wheeled back into our room and got to hold our little baby girl.  In our personal opinion, she was perfect!

She was born on Sunday, March 1, 2020 at 2:23 am.  She weighed in at 3.3 kg (7.3 lbs) and 48 cm long (19 in).  Since she was a Sunday-born baby, in Ghanaian culture, she was given the nick-name Akosua, which is the female name for Sunday-born babies.

Andrea, Harper, and my mom were able to go out to the waiting room to catch some sleep while Richard and I curled up on the hospital beds and finally fell asleep.  I had been awake over 24 hours by the time we closed our eyes to sleep.  I was overwhelmingly cloudy those first moments, not really realizing that this little person needed food or attention.  I was out...

By the time the sun rose, we were finally woken up by the nursing staff as they came to check on us and on baby girl.  Our friend, Jammie, arrived to take Andrea, Harper, and my mom back to City of Refuge for some rest, and we attempted feeding.  She latched on and the journey towards parenting really began.

By Monday morning, we were cleared to return home and our friends, John and Stacy, came to pick us up.  We left with a pile full of medications for me to take take during our first few weeks home and foggy brains as sleep was hit and miss that first full day.  When we arrived home, we were greeted by some very happy big brothers who were so excited to get to meet their little sister.  The first few days were marked with very little sleep, lots of emotions, trying to adjust to the usual school schedule for the boys, but also trying to adjust to being woken in the night by little cries and trying to figure out how to breastfeed and spend time with family and all that comes with being home (like laundry and cooking and dishes and...).

 I am so grateful for my family being around at that time.  They kept the boys busy with games and activities.  They helped with chores and organizing the house and keeping up with the laundry.  They encouraged me when the emotions came rolling over me and I couldn't control them.  It was an absolute blessing to have them here in such a new season.

On March 7, 2020, we were able to have Ava's naming ceremony with our CORM family and many of Richard's family and friends.  We named her:

Ava Lynne "Babaa Akosua" Acheampong

Ava meaning Life.

and Lynne meaning Church or House of God. 

Lynne being in honor of my mom.  Babaa and Akosua in honor of Richard's moms. 

We were able to pray sweet prayers over her and welcome her into this world with so much love and light.  Our families were thrilled to meet our little treasure and we were so excited to share her with them.







The "fourth trimester", as some have called the first three months of newborn life, is no joke.  It is more challenging and more rewarding than all my months of pregnancy.  It is harder...caused more tears...and has been a battle against constant fear.  With just a few days being home, Ava showed signs of jaundice.  Beyond that, she had an infection at her belly button site and had to be medicated.  This mama has struggled with my milk supply, seeing it not arrive for ten whole days and finally arriving, but so little that supplementation is still required.  It is still a work in progress with frequent feedings, pumpings, and eating all the things.  There is a constant state of lack of sleep, which leads to the frequent tears (along with all the things that go along with this new body).  Richard and I switch off during the night shift to keep baby girl fed and sleeping and have somehow worked out a routine, while the days sometimes seem endless with feedings and trying ever so hard to manage a long enough nap with Ava that this mama can get a few winks in too.  We are in coping mode right now, but learning and growing alongside still parenting two older kiddos too.  Yes, the fourth trimester is definitely not a joke.

In everything, our Ava-girl is worth it all...the pain and the tears, the hardships and the fear.  She is a beautiful gift from God and we are so grateful to be given the opportunity to raise her, to love her, to care for her, and to ultimately show her the love of a heavenly Father who has such a great plan ad purpose or her life.

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Breaking the Silence

I used to come here often.  A place of reflection and respite.

This season of my life has been challenging, perhaps not on the outside, but internally.  I have struggled to voice the internal emotions.  I have filled my empty spaces with food and entertainment and anything that would stop the questions.  I stopped up the emotions and told myself that today was not a good day to "fall apart".

In all the filling up and the stuffing down, I found my heart becoming bitter and angry and frustrated.  I felt like giving up and leaving here, leaving my ministry here in Ghana and this place that I have called home for almost 6 years.  I felt let down and alone.

And one night, the dam broke with the words of a sweet friend.  And I realized that all that bitterness and anger and frustration...they weren't the true emotions of the deepest places of my heart.  They were merely secondary emotions masking what I truly felt.  Sadness.  I felt grieved.  As if I had been promised something that could never be fully given.

Looking back over this season, I realized that at the very root of it all, all the hard hard days and lonely, discouraging, anxiety-ridden nights...it came from this longing for more.

Tonight, I sit in such a tender hungry place.  I feel like I fought myself all day to get here.  To just sit in the rawness of it all.  To ask myself the questions.  To listen in the silence instead of drown it out.

I realized that I haven't given myself the permission to be in this place for quite some time.  And because of that, I have neglected my heart for the sake of "getting things done" around me.  There is never going to be a perfect time to dig deep and uproot the lies and start engaging my emotions again, to sit with the Lord in the middle of all this, to fight for myself once more.  But, I have to start somewhere.

Tonight, I started by giving myself permission to:

*take the time I needed to do some self-care

*sit in the silent places and give myself space to internally listen to what's going on and respond (emotionally, spiritually, physically, creatively, etc).

*say "no" to things (and people) that may want to enter into this sacred space (i.e. social media, screen time, having a day where Aunty Autumn gets "rest time" and the kiddos leave my door knock-free, etc).

*allow God to speak into places in me that need healing and wholeness, mindsets shifted, lies revealed, truth restored, even when it hurts.

I'm hoping that my Sundays in the months to come will be places of sweet restoration and that with the silence and the stillness and the study of my soul, I will find my voice once again.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Confessions

Today, it was this that rocked me most:

"But what do I love when I love you? Not the beauty of any body or the rhythm of time in its movement; not the radiance of light, so dear to our eyes; not the sweet melodies in the world of manifold sounds; not the perfume of flowers, ointments and spices; not manna and not honey; not the limbs so delightful to the body’s embrace: it is none of these things that I love when I love my God. 
And yet when I love my God I do indeed love a light and a sound and a perfume and a food and an embrace—a light and sound and perfume and food and embrace in my inward self. There my soul is flooded with a radiance which no space can contain; there a music sounds which time never bears away; there I smell a perfume which no wind disperses; there I taste a food that no surfeit embitters; there is an embrace which no satiety severs. It is this that I love when I love my God." (Confessions by Augustine 10.6.8)

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Rollercoaster Rides and Meeting the Other Side

It's been awhile.

The saying is out there, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder".

I know it's true in regards to people, but the absence of writing here, in this space...well, I'm not sure I'm quite ready to be here again.

But, my time away has been less about me being "too busy" or "caught up in life" and more about "escape".

I stand on the precipice of this post, knowing that I have spent the last few months hiding out.

This hasn't been the easiest season of my life.  It's hard to know how to talk about my life here sometimes.

There is so much beauty here in Ghana and the fingerprints of God are all over this ministry.  I see Him at work everyday.

And yet, there is at times, a warring inside of me.

I speak and call up and encourage...and then doubt creeps in and I run and hide and wonder if I've said anything that matters at all.

I train and equip and challenge...and then discouragement finds its way to my door and I think that maybe I've not done enough or not said the right thing or not explained it well.

I pray for marriages and blossoming romances and encourage my staff to seek Godly partners, and then I wonder at my own state of singleness.

It's been a confusing season for me.

Best described by the climb and fall of the old rickety rollercoasters of the past.  Unsure and a bit unstable.  Sometimes you might have even wondered if you would live to see the end.  And when you climb out on the other end, you realize that because of your time in that little car, hurdling along the shaky wooden path...you gained something.  You became a little stronger.  You lost a little of the fear that seemed to haunt you as you waited in line for your turn.


I'm riding along and can feel myself slowly identifying and removing the old doubts and fears and tossing aside the age-old lies that still haunt my steps all these years later.  It's a bit scary and sometimes it takes my breath away.  Sometimes, the drop from the highest peak makes my stomach sink to my toes and I recognize that the quickest way to healing is simply to trust.  Trust the journey and trust the Maker of this wild ride.

This season is a journey of ups and downs.  The process is messy.  There's nothing neat and clean about it.  It's wild and jerky and winsome and hard.

But, I can see the other side...a stronger me...a me standing in greater freedom and greater confidence and greater understanding of an even Greater God.

I'm looking forward to meeting the other side.

Until then, here's to the ride...

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

There is a Mess in my Trunk

Years ago, I worked with the University that I had graduated from, Hope International University, to put together a women's conference.  We brought in my favorite author at the time, Angela Thomas.  She wrote a book years back that cultivated intense change in my life, Do You Think I'm Beautiful?.That change was so important, so apparent, that I knew, if I could just get her to come and speak, God would bring freedom to others as well.

That weekend was a beautiful weekend of grace-filled messages of love.  But, for some reason, there were a couple things that she said to us that stuck and over the years, I have continued to cling to those truths, being challenged to press in in different seasons.

One of the things she mentioned was that there are certain people you meet in your life that seem to overflow with wisdom and grace and love of God.  She said that you will know those people because when you simply bump into them, you get splashed with that overflow.  At the time, she was referring to my amazing mentor, Priscilla, who was exactly that.  I was blessed to be in the pathway of that overflow for years (and it still continues today, over 10 years later).

I remember when she gave that description, I thought, "That is who I want to be."  I wanted to spread that gooshy overflow of the love of God.  I wanted people to bump into me and experience grace.  I wanted people to desire to be near me because they knew that they would receive wisdom.  I wanted to walk in such close proximity with God, that it was apparent even in the slightest crossing of paths.  That overflow...oh, how I longed to swim in that place.  

I'm not there yet.  I'm not even close.  But, each day I'm given a new opportunity to be shaped and molded more into an image of Christ.  Each day is a chance to reflect Him more.  Each day is an opportunity to grow in His love, in His grace, in His wisdom.

The one other thing that Angela Thomas mentioned during her weekend at Hope all those years ago that has stuck with me was something to the effect of, "I know the state of my soul when I see the state of the trunk of my car."

I don't own a car anymore, but this phrase popped up in my memory this weekend as I was cleaning my house and I was shocked at the truth of it.

I tend to keep my living room fairly clean as I frequently have guests pop in to say hello or Stacy or Miriah stop by for a chat, a good game, or a workout session.  But, my bedroom and guest room are another story.  Recently, they've been off limits to visitors.  Inviting guests into those rooms would have been letting them in to examine my soul...and it was a very sad state.

For weeks, I had washed my clothes, pulled them from the clothes line, and then piled them up in the guest room "to be folded".  My floors went unswept.  My bed unmade.  Every flat surface was covered with something that just hadn't been put away.  It was cluttered...unkempt...even dirty.  I might be known to have the family curse of "empty surface syndrome", but dirty is not usually said of me.  This wasn't me, there was something more going on.

I just so happened to be hosting a Bible Study at my house Sunday Night and I realized that this just wasn't going to work anymore.  So, I turned on my music and began to clean.  And as I cleaned, I worshiped.  As I scrubbed my floors, I did some soul-searching.  I cleaned house...inside and out.

And I realized that what Angela had said all those years back was true.  I'd allowed the clutter of my life to build up--the lies of the enemy...the frustrations and fears...the insecurity...the dis-contentedness...the hurts and disappointments.  The places that I had cleaned out so long ago, they moved right back in.  I'd opened the door and allowed them space inside my head and inside my heart.  And it showed.  Internally and externally.

But, as I began to clean, a fresh breeze broke free.  The insecurities were folded up and put away...I didn't need to walk in them anymore.  The frustrations and fears were swept away.  The dis-contentedness was tossed out with yesterday's trash.  And suddenly, I could breathe again.  I felt more me.

And the thing I'm learning is that for this place to stay clean, it requires me to be proactive...to take initiative...to dig in deep.  The mess in my trunk doesn't go away if I don't work at it.

Honestly, for the past few months, I haven't wanted to work at it all that hard.  But, I think I'm finally getting back to that place.  I'm desiring depth.  I'm desiring more.  I'm desiring a walk with God that will overflow into that gooshy love, that gentle grace, that profound wisdom.  That kind of work happens over time, one day at a time, moment by moment--understanding first that gooshy love of the Father for myself, offering myself the gentle grace of a good God in times when I feel so weak, and accepting the profound wisdom of those who walk before me.

Let's walk this road together, splashing a little grace and love and wisdom onto the ones we walk in community with, knowing that we all have a little mess in our trunk from time to time.

Thursday, November 12, 2015

The Quiet

Noise.

I've found that I am incredibly comfortable with noise.

I live in an apartment by myself, but you will find that it is rarely quiet.  The background noise of the television.  The latest tunes blaring on my radio.  My phone frequently in my hand--instagram, facebook, gmail, youtube...all readily accessible at the touch of my fingers.

I've been reading this amazing book, Sacred Rhythms by Ruth Haley Barton, a book that I read almost two years ago, but am now reading in community with my friends here.  I feel the call for depth in Ruth's words.  I sense the longing for more.  I want to be willing to turn off the noise and really begin to listen.

Lately, I've been feeling the call to a place of quiet.  Time away from everything that fills me with the noise that I am so comfortable with.

To be honest, I get anxious about even considering what turning off the noise might mean.

It means I might have to face what is really going on in me.

And I might not like what I see.

Or perhaps I will be challenged beyond what I know and am comfortable with...to stretch my boundaries once again.  Oh God, can't I just stay in my comfortable noise-filled space for now?

I don't want to be stretched.

But, yet, I also have this feeling like I can't stay in this noisy place much longer without some repercussions.  The noise drains away the motivation to engage, to inspire, to create, to relate to others well.  The noise takes over the ability to hear, to listen, to be filled.

The quiet...well...it has its own set of fears that go along with it...but I'm beginning to wonder if quiet is the answer.

A few weeks back, Stacy, Miriah, and I sat in a place of silence and I realized my mind couldn't shut off.  For five whole minutes of silence, it didn't stop, it didn't focus, it didn't slow down.  I was frustrated at the overwhelming speed of my thoughts.  The hundreds of things that I needed to get done in the week ahead.  The new song I was listening to just before blasted its lyrics into my consciousness.  There was no peace.  There was only confusion, unrest, and busyness.

I realized then that the noise had taken over.

And it was consuming the places of quiet that were provided for God to speak.  I couldn't hear because my mind was simply recalling the noise.

So, quiet must be a practice.  A continual practice.

I need less noise.  I need more quiet.

I need to practice this silence.

Because I need that ability to hear, to listen, to be filled to be restored.  I need the motivation to engage, to inspire, to create, and to relate to others well.

I am beginning to see that space for silence creates opportunities for me to not just connect to God, but to feel more "me" again.  It clears the noise and allows for my true self to be made known.

Scary as the silence may be, I'm finding that the noise is even scarier...it's trickier.  It pretends to fill, but can only go so far.

Facing myself, and God, in the silence, is where I am most whole.