February, 2012

Betsy Freeman
February 20, 2012
Her abdomen is a fleshy, mountain of cellulite, her umbilicus the pinnacle. “Jesus. Is she ruptured?” I stare and can’t make heads of what I’m seeing. “Or is it an umbilical hernia?” the other midwife suggests. I touch her belly and feel something just below the surface of the skin, the baby’s head. “Oh my God, I think she is ruptured.” I rip the extension cord of the ultrasound from the wall and pull it to the bed. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.” I thrust the probe into Monique’s hand. The three of us stare at the screen. I am lost. Fetus, placenta; can you actually see the uterine wall burst open? We don’t have much time to figure it out. She’s in shock. Plasma is pouring into her veins. Blood is on the way.
February 14, 2012
Every year when February 14th rolls around, I search within for a real connection to the symbol of this over commercialized event we call Valentine’s Day. Sure it’s a nice gesture to send cards and love notes to our loved ones but that certainly doesn’t and shouldn’t limit us from doing so whenever the urge strikes, and it strikes a lot in my home. My family knows they are loved. As a mother, it is my job to let them know that they are and it’s a job I take quite seriously. So, since I know my immediate family is all covered, I challenge myself to look outside my own circle. Have you ever wondered what happens to families without mothers on these sorts of holidays? I do. I think about those families a lot as a global maternal health advocate and founder of Every Mother Counts.