Joy Comes in the Morning

I was on shift yesterday. After a long day of appointments, the night saw us in the clinic, not sleeping like normal people, but working. 

During the night mother after mother came, stating contractions, stating that her water had broken, needing a room because the baby was coming NOW. It was a night of births, only 4, but for a house that has only three rooms, that's a lot. It was a night of endless laundry and cleaning, a night of setting up this room, taking that one down, sending that mother home to rest and relax, welcoming this baby into the world, and helping the other mom get more comfortable. It was a night of checking vitals every hour, listening to heart tones, monitoring contractions, and grabbing bites of the cake left on the counter. It was a night of hard work, for both us and the moms. It was a night of disappointment for those we had to transfer to the hospital, and a night of joy for those families who could finally hold their child, their nephew, their sister in their arms. It was a long night. It was a sleepless night. And as the rays of sunrise flamed across the sky and the new troops started coming in to take over, it proved to me once again that joy does come in the morning.