and allow the interpreters to share the information their respective languages. At one point, whatever I'd said generated a few giggles, then some louder laughs, and a finally a couple of questions from the women in the room. As I did my best to share what I knew, I realized I felt less a teacher in that space and more a student. Together, we shared that awareness of women's intuition and knowing about difficult things and our bodies that couldn't be perfectly translated, but could be more fully understood if we remained open to one another.  

​As an Atlanta native, I feel right at home and halfway across the world while being in my neighboring community of Clarkston, often described as "the most diverse square mile in the United States." I am incredibly grateful for my experiences as a Morehead Scholar at UNC-Chapel Hill, where I pioneered an International Studies curriculum that gave me the opportunity to live and work in east Africa with women and their families. While researching my thesis on the HIV/AIDS crisis in Rwanda, I developed a love for maternal-child health and resolved that all women deserve access to culturally sensitive healthcare. As a Fuld Fellow at Emory University's School of Nursing, I recognized that nurse midwives have a unique opportunity to walk alongside women in pregnancy and childbirth, empowering them with knowledge to make healthy choices for their families. I then worked as a Certified Nurse Midwife with Kaiser Permanente at Northside Hospital, "catching" nearly 400 babies and helping countless other mothers throughout their pregnancy and childbirth.

Since that first experience at Embrace, I haven't been able to leave.  Jenny, Heidi, and the rest of the team have made me feel like a part of the family from day one. After the birth of my third daughter, I joined the advisory council at Embrace and the executive board of Friends of Refugees, serving as its chairperson from 2018-2020. I am thrilled to be with the Embrace family again in this new capacity as Director, and proud to introduce my three girls, friends and communities to all the wonderful people who continue to teach me and shape me in the most beautiful and unexpected ways. My hope is that our Embrace family can continue to grow and find those moments of mutual learning from one another that allow for all women and their families to thrive.

​In 2011, I met Jenny Cochran and Liz Johnson on the living room floor of my dear friend who had recently moved to Clarkston as a refugee from Burma. She had been a midwife in a refugee camp in Thailand and despite her limited English, my friend and I quickly became involved in Embrace. She became an interpreter for women from Burma and I, a birth support doula and childbirth educator. In those early days, I have memories of sitting on the floors and couches of many other refugee women from Somalia, Congo, Afghanistan, and Bhutan. 

​While I had become an Embrace volunteer to walk alongside refugee women through their pregnancy and birth experiences, I was often the one who was welcomed and cared for in ways that I will never forget. I remember sitting in doctors' offices with women and then returning to a joy-filled, cramped apartment to eat spicy noodles or drink sweet tea while my new friend would share stories about previous birth experiences in a refugee camp, clinic, or at home. I remember accompanying women to give birth in the hospital, one such time a Congolese mother quietly birthed her sixth baby while the nurse scrambled to put on gloves and call for the doctor. I learned a lot about the different traditions that surround birth and welcoming a new child into the world, such as the naming rituals common in Bhutanese tradition or the unique ways that women prefer to give birth in Somali or Karenni (a tribe from Burma) tradition. My support never looked the same; most of the time it involved helping to explain to a partner what a medical professional had said, or driving a woman and her family to and from medical appointments. Many times, my involvement was on the receiving endas I was continually invited into homes for meals, family celebrations, cultural holidays, and other special occasions.  Ultimately, It was an honor to be welcomed into these families' homes during one of the most intimate experiences of a woman and family's life: childbirth. 
~ Amber Oda, Embrace Volunteer 2011-2012

Back in 2009 Jenny Cochran, a labor doula and childbirth educator, and Liz Johnson, also a labor doula, were told of a refugee mom who had just given birth to her 7th child. This was her first US birth and she had experienced a two day induction which ended with a c-section. This story compassionately moved Jenny and Liz as they recognized a potential need within the refugee community. In 2010, they contacted a local resettlement agency (World Relief), offered their services as labor doulas, and Embrace Refugee Birth Support was born. They were immediately matched with three newly arrived moms: two young first time mothers and one mom who was scheduled for a repeat cesarean. 

Unbelievably both of the first time moms went into labor on the same day! They both labored at home and arrived at the hospital in active labor. Everything was progressing nicely for the moms and their babies until about 20 minutes into the pushing phase. Each woman’s doctor began yelling and threatening the women to push more effectively or face the OR.  No use of an interpreter or language line was used and no instruction was given on how to push effectively in either case. Jenny and Liz quickly jumped in and tried to teach the women how to push and both births ended up with healthy mothers and babies. However, after this experience, Jenny and Liz realized they needed to do more. Just showing up as support during labor and birth was only part of the solution.

Jenny recognized the need for childbirth education classes, advocacy, and the need for building relationships and supporting the moms throughout their pregnancies. In those first years, the classes were a total flop for a myriad of reasons and yet the women kept showing up.  Embrace’s first real breakthrough was when an American woman introduced Jenny to her Burmese friend who was a trained midwife. This woman became Embrace’s first community liaison. Further connections within the community of New Americans who spoke English and were leaders in their communities were made. It was then that the program really began to take off. 

Eventually Embrace came under the larger nonprofit Friends of Refugees as our program needed a funding base and an administrative structure. At that point Embrace was able to start receiving donations and volunteers which were critical to expanding the program to a greater number of women within the refugee/immigrant population. As of today, 2020, we have served over 400 mothers in the Clarkston community. It is our hope that with the continued support from our donors and volunteers that we would be able to serve these women another ten years with quality education, advocacy, friendship, and support throughout their journey of pregnancy and birth.

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Embrace has fundamentally changed the way I practice as a labor & delivery nurse. Working in the Atlanta area, I often encounter patients who do not speak English. Prior to Embrace, I would attempt to communicate in English if the patient seemed to understand. But now I have come to see the importance of interpretive services. Rather than seeing the language line as a last resort for those who “really don’t speak English,” I see it as a gesture of hospitality. I see it as a way to invite patients to participate in their own care, to truly feel heard, understood, and cared for in their native tongue. ​This change in my practice came because as an embrace volunteer, I find that healthcare providers often walk into the room and look past the patient and to me- the English speaker. I understand this tendency. It’s faster and easier for the provider, but it excludes the patient from conversations focused on them and can leave them feeling isolated and unheard. My goal as a nurse and a person is to make space for people to be heard and supported. So thank you embrace for helping me learn to do that well!
~Nila Underwood, BSN, RN

A few weeks ago, I found myself in a study month at my medical school where we received time off from clinical duties in order to study for our licensing exams. Although the study schedule is fairly intensive, we have the flexibility to decide how we will structure each day. As such, although I did not feel that my study schedule would allow me the time to be “paired” with a mom through Embrace, which entails taking a mom to all of her prenatal appointments and being present for her delivery, I figured, at the very least, I would try to help out with some one-off appointment needs.

One brisk Wednesday morning, I went to meet Kawera who was nearing the end of her pregnancy. I had been told ahead of time that Kawera speaks Kinyarwanda and Swahili. By some stroke of grace, it turns out that I had studied Swahili for one year in college about a decade ago. But by a concurrent stroke of my own finitude, I realized to my great dismay and embarrassment that the only things I could remember how to say were, “Hello, how are you,” “I only speak a little Swahili,” “I don’t know,” and amusingly, “motorcycle” (“pikipiki” was just such a memorable word).

When I arrived at Kawera’s home, I mustered up my best Swahili accent and greeted her with a rusty, “Hujambo! Habari gani?” She smiled and returned the greeting. Our conversation after that was fairly fragmented, filled with multiple quizzical looks and gracious smiles. We arrived at her doctor’s office and while we were waiting, we discovered that we both speak some French, too. So, we took turns attempting to say things in Swahili, then French, then English to see if by any chance the other person would understand. When it was clear the other did not understand, we turned to an online English-Swahili dictionary to help piece together what turned out to be a very pleasant conversation.

When it was time for her appointment, my sense from our conversation was that she would prefer I wait outside the exam room. Of course, I understood; I would feel uncomfortable having a stranger I just met and with whom I could barely communicate sit in on my doctor’s appointment. At the end of her appointment, the doctor asked her to return in one week. Thinking I would simply relay that information to Embrace so another volunteer could take her, I jotted down the appointment information and we started on our way home.

Something funny happens, though, when you get to see someone face-to-face—and I mean truly see them. When you begin to learn about that person’s life, the names of her children, and the places she has lived, you start to feel interconnected, like maybe you both have an important role to play in bringing about joy and flourishing in the other person’s life.

Over the course of the next few weeks, as much as possible, I made it a priority to take her to as many of her prenatal visits as I could. After each visit, she would invite me into her home for some juice and company. I got to meet her husband and their other children, and we even sang some songs together. Although I thought I was the one working to actively welcome this refugee family, it struck me that, in fact, I was the stranger, and they had invited me in. They had invited me into the sacred process of pregnancy and birth, into their home, and into their lives. There are few higher privileges than this, and for it, I am deeply humbled and eternally grateful. ​

​Embrace Reflection by Carmen Reid

The first time Hay Soe welcomed me into her home there were plenty of awkward smiles and nods, the tell-tale uncertainty of letting someone, someone so unlike you, into the most intimate parts of your life. We couldn’t say much to each other without the help of a translator. I felt so lost and unsure of myself, was I really able to be what this woman needed? But I was determined this was someone I wanted to form a relationship with.
    Over the next few months we shared near silent car rides to and from her prenatal appointments. I worried the whole time I was too self-conscious, too inexperienced, too culturally distant to be a good support person for Hay Soe. I didn’t know it then, but we were getting to know each other, even in the most awkward moments, and building up that level of trust and respect that would be so crucial when it was time for Hay Soe to give birth.
    Hay Soe went into labor on a Saturday afternoon and went to the hospital later that night. I met her and her friend, a translator, there. The atmosphere of awkward car rides suddenly disappeared. We were all friends, united with the common goal of helping Hay Soe bring a new life into this world the way she wanted to do it. Hay Soe labored beautifully, pushing spontaneously and hardly making a noise. In those moments I saw her strength, her ability to advocate for herself, and even her humor. I didn’t know how natural it would be to laugh in a delivery room.
    Later on that night, when we relaxed and ate snacks together in her room, Hay Soe told me that she was thankful I had been given to her as a volunteer and that I had been the right fit. She asked me to name her baby, a boy, simply because I had been nice. I couldn’t help but to feel both shocked and honored, we had barely spoken before the birth, as she went on to say that sometimes you can just tell who is kind by the way act.
    Now I visit Hay Soe as a friend. We sit smiling, still unable to speak the way I would communicate with most of my friends, though that doesn’t make our friendship any less rich. In fact, it holds a warmth now that some friendships will never have, a warmth that comes from knowing friendship has no partiality to language, country, or appearance. I love and admire her for who she is and know it was never about my ability to be perfect, it was always about just being present with a kind face and a heart open to whatever comes next.

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