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Benedict’s birth story
Or, a posterior labor natural hospital birth.
After my last baby, we were bound and determined to get to a hospital this time. When I started having slightly painful contractions at 39 weeks, we finished up the family evening prayer time at 7 pm and called our babysitter. We did not stop to put the big kids to bed or make school lunches, aware as we were that there would be a Covid-19 test I had to pass in the emergency room before they even let me on the ward. I had heard there was a birthing tub and I wanted to use it.
We arrived at the hospital and contractions had slowed down a bit. They put me in a triage bay and it became clear that laboring women did not fit into the expected patient behavior in the ER. I declined repeatedly to lay down, pacing and squatting in the narrow space between the bed and assorted medical equipment. I declined the antibiotics, IV painkillers, and anti-vomiting medicine when I threw up. My contractions stayed about four minutes apart. After two hours, I was heartily sick of that triage bay, and very glad when our Covid-19 tests came back negative and I got a ride to the maternity ward.
The maternity room did have a large, deep tub, and a shower, and a birthing ball. Things were looking up. I gave my medical history to the midwife on duty and discovered that she had been at Kudjip Hospital before. She checked my dilation and proclaimed me 4 cm. I declined to have my water broken. I had to endure 15 minutes of external fetal monitoring, laying down with the monitors strapped to my belly. When I got up my back was really uncomfortable. (Hint, hint). The midwife left us and I roamed around the room, leaning over during contractions and getting counterpressure from Brandon, or bouncing on the ball. The contractions intensified, but not to the point that I had to make noise. Around 2 am I was getting discouraged, so Brandon suggested I lie down and try to rest. We got about 3 hours of patchy sleep. When we decided to get up around 5 am, the night midwife checked me again before going off-duty: 6 cm, and no, I still did not want my water broken or painkillers.
The day midwife arrived and introduced herself, and said that she understood we wanted a natural birth (finally, someone who got it). She put the fetal monitor on my belly just for a few minutes, not even strapped on. Then I headed for the tub, and, reader, it was even more glorious than I had imagined. It filled quickly with hot water, and the sloshing over my back during a contraction was delightful.
After some time, Brandon talked me out of the tub (he wanted to go get himself breakfast, and thought I should eat mine). I moved to the shower to rinse off, and that was equally glorious. The water pressure was amazing, and with the hot water pounding on the small of my back I could barely feel the contractions. A towel finally arrived, and I got dressed and went to see the breakfast.. which was slices of untoasted bread, two hardboiled eggs, a slice of processed cheese, and a salad with onions (?!). I grudgingly ate some egg to supplement the dates I had been noshing on and resumed my roaming about the room.
Something weird about this labor was that I kept bleeding. Mostly it was just like a semi-continuous bloody show, but during one contraction there was some splashing of blood on the floor. The midwife barked, “On the bed! Do you have an IV line in your arm?” Me: “Yes, they put it in at the ER, why?” Midwife: “So we can give you medication in an emergency.” Me: “…Is this an emergency?”
After an internal exam she determined it was not, in fact, an emergency, and that I was at 8 cm. The floor was cleaned and I resumed moving about, laboring. The contractions were now painful enough that I had to vocalize through them. I was feeling low and wishing for the rice sock I had left at home, when Brandon had the idea to fill a nalgene with some of the nice hot water in the bathroom. Pressing it against my lower back in a contraction helped a lot. The heat from the water bottle helped my mind interpret my pelvic sensations as heat as well, rather than pain.
It was now about 10:30 am and I was exhausted and discouraged. I was laying draped over the birthing ball, almost falling asleep in between contractions, and wishing my water would break already so that I would be in transition and have the baby, when there was a change in the contractions. I thought, oh yeah, I remember, this is how it needs to hurt for the head to come out. Soon I was catching my breath and grunting slightly during contractions, and the midwife told me again to get on the bed.
I managed to endure being checked for dilation while having pushing-adjacent contractions, one of my least favorite parts of labor, and was cleared to assume my birthing position. I overhead the midwife explaining to the trainee doctor in the room that knee to chest was in fact a normal position for a natural labor. My water finally broke after the first few real pushes. The midwife really shone during pushing, helping me breathe through contractions, and Brandon was busy encouraging and keeping me clean. The top of baby’s head appeared, and she told me to wait and push with a contraction. Then the baby’s head came out– face up! This is why my back had been killing me for hours! After an excruciating wait for a contraction, with the midwife’s help in positioning so I wouldn’t tear, I pushed the rest of the baby out!
It’s a boy! Brandon received him in a blanket. I wanted to get off my hands and knees and hold the baby, but the midwife was doing something with the umbilical cord – collecting some cord blood to find his blood type. I reached back and touched his little foot. After the cord was cut, the baby went to get cleaned off and weighed (3.57 kg/7lb,13oz), and Brandon went with him. I was getting resettled on the bed, pushing out the placenta, and being checked for internal tearing (my other least favorite part of labor.) No tearing, or hemorrhaging, despite all my contraction bleeding, praise the Lord and pass the dates.
A nurse tried to get me to put on a hospital gown again, but I explained that I wanted to nurse the baby. He came in all swaddled up and I finally got to see his little squashed face. He latched after some licking and sniffing. I declined more antibiotics (I didn’t tear, after all), IV painkillers, and opioid painkillers. A pediatrician came by and gave Benedict a once-over. He gave me a pep talk about breastfeeding and vaccination, and I assured him blearily that I was a great believer in both.
My blood pressure was low so they had me stay in the birthing room for a few hours while I ate lunch, dozed, drank lots of water, and talked names. Benedict had been Brandon’s boy name choice for the past several pregnancies and I finally came around to it. It honors Pope Benedict XVI, and the nickname Ben reminds us of Brandon’s late college roommate. Martin is for Brandon’s father and grandfather, following our grandparent naming pattern, and honors St. Martin of Tours, one of Brandon’s favorite saints.
After another lovely shower and a discussion about when I could leave the hospital (they were shocked by the idea I might go the same day I had the baby, and we decided to stay and recover lost sleep and blood) we moved to the postpartum room. Our babysitter stepped up to the challenge and put four kids to bed for the second night in a row. In the morning, after another breakfast mysteriously containing salad with onions, I had my belly squished, hemoglobin checked, declined one last round of antibiotics and habit-forming painkillers, and we were free to go introduce Benedict to his sisters and brother.
To my friends in-country who might be considering this hospital, I would say it is worth it for the labor ward amenities and midwives. However, bring your own towels and wipes, be prepared to pay for everything the staff use down to the gloves, and above all be able to advocate for yourself.
We’re saying the Christmas Anticipation prayer daily with the intention of our transition to life as a family of seven, with a special awareness of what the hour and moment a baby boy comes into the world is like. Please pray for us too.
Family Hike up the Knob
Dear patient readers,
Here is a post about a family hike from last November. First, is Halloween 2019:
Princess Tabby, Moana, Tobiah the horse, Pippi the cowgirl. The bilums are for collecting candy.
Annie’s grade 2 graduation. Her class is doing a musical number. The Australian boy, Zan, is one of Annie’s best friends. He is now back in Australia due to covid.
So last November, Pacific Adventist University (PAU), which owns a huge tract of land across from CTI decided to fence their property. We decided to take a walk along the clearing made for the fence so that we could access some nearby hills.
This is near the top of the first hill. Behind us is the International Business School. I often walk through the campus with the kids.
Beyond IBS is a hill slowly being reduced to gravel.
Coming down the first hill. Tabby had a much easier time than the adults.
That rocky knob is my destination. I’ve had my eye on it for a while, but no easy way to get up. The fence was only completed to the top of its ridge line, so it made a path for us.
We’re off!
Rebecca decided to stay at the bottom with Pippi and Tobiah. I went up the knob with Tabby and Annie and their friend Micah. The workers (with a compressor and welders) were quite happy for us to pass through and see the top. They acted like we weren’t strange at all!
From the top #1: looking toward the mountains north of Moresby. Varirata National Park is on the top of the far ridge. Closer on the left is PAU and its farms.
#2: The mountains that the Japanese failed to cross in WWII. Closer by is PAU and its fields.
Far away is Mt. Laloki. CTI is basically in the trees in the center. On the far right is the Ilimo dairy farm.
Great view of the quarried hill. Beyond the far ridge line on the left is the ocean.
In the distance is the settlement “9 mile”. In the middle is the road to the water treatment plant that we often walk up.
Anastasia, Mt. Erima, and the water treatment plant
Uncharted (at least for me) wilderness
Here is a better view of Pacific Adventist University and its farms. The kids and I continued on the ridge line, while CC and the little ones continued on a dirt road at the bottom.
The drop from the knob – I did not get any closer to the edge!
Triumphant, if worried about the footing of the kids . . .
Freestyle on the mountain top!
I think I am encouraging them to walk to that rock.
Chillin’ by a giant boulder
Goodbye, knob!
From the ridgeline, looking at the fence line and road that we followed. CC walked on the grassy road at the bottom. The contractor for the fence was worried about her and accompanied her the whole way and waited with her until the kids and I came down.
The fence was being built to protects PAU’s farms from thieves
Descending the ridge
Once we got down, we walked back along PAU’s rice paddies, which are bordered by beautiful raintrees.
When we got back to the road, we discovered that PAU was also building a fence there too, thereby closing off one of my favorite walking loops. The workers were happy to help us break through the fence that they were building . . .
2020 Update – Now that the fence is up, it would be nearly impossible to get to the knob again. I still go through the fence by the road to get to my walking loop though . . .
Varirata National Park
Today we went on a hike a Varirata National Park up in the mountains northeast of Port Moresby with our friends the Aspins. This post, however, is of pictures from our first trip to Varirata about three months ago.
The road up the mountains is a winding, narrow road with some hairpin turns. Unlike the highlands highway, it is completely paved. The views on the way up are amazing – towering cliffs on both sides of a narrow river valley. The park itself has good roads, numerous camping sites, and decently maintained trails.
With our friends Fr. Marcin (left) and Fr. Jacek (right), Vincentian priests from Poland. This is the main lookout point, which is accessible by car and can be crowded at times.
We had a picnic lunch at the lookout.
This was Perpetua’s third big hike – we took her up Mt. Erima and Mt. Lalokai before.
CTI is in the upper right, near the hill with the pointy top. It’s hard to see.
Ocean! The downtown of Port Moresby is in the far distance.
66% of my family is looking in the general direction of the camera . . .
From the lookout, we went on a 2.5 km trail that went along the edge of the ridge. I was surprised that it was a lot of up and down (I was carrying Tobiah!). We passed two other lookouts, which were nice, but not as good as the first. The third one was great and had a better view of the ocean, but it was hazy . . .
Tabitha is standing well in front of the 400 ft drop.
More ocean! We go to beaches on the far distance point fairly regularly.
Back row (right to left): Matt and Devine (New Zealand), April (Canada) w/ Hadasseh and Marco (Chile), Marcin (Poland). Non-Zimmermans in the bottom row: April (CTI’s English teacher from Carlisle, PA), Marco’s mom (Chile).
From here, it was about a 2 km walk to a parking lot that we had shuttled a car too. All in all, it was great day and hike.
This post is dedicated to our friends, April, Marco, and Hadassah, who have moved to Winnipeg so that April and Marco can train as ministers in the Salvation Army. We miss them dearly.
April Birthdays
I’ve been buried alive by administrative work, but I’ll try to put up some new posts as a break from marking papers and course selection.
Annie turned 8 and Tabitha 5 on April 16 and 22 respectively. Like last year, we had their party at Adventure Park, a little nature/amusement part just down the road from CTI’s backside.
The main events were cake and waterslides.
Waiting for Cake . . . Guests were a mixture of neighbors and school friends
Still waiting for cake . . .
Happy to have cake.
Happy to have eaten cake. The lady in the middle is Dalus, our neighbor and CTI’s Registrar
Fr. Marcin (our Scripture lecturer) and neighbor girls Bernadette and Morrisa
The blue is a leisurely trip. The yellow is a free fall. I don’t like the yellow, because I feel it’s like psyching myself up to jump off a cliff. All my kids (sans Pippi) went down it multiple times.
Annie and her friend and neighbor Rebecca
The two boys are Zan (Annie’s classmate) and Bo (Tabitha’s classmate). They are brothers from Australia. They also played soccer with the girls.
Tabby and Bo.
Tobiah is airborne!
It was a great day. The kids could play on these slides forever.
Perpetua’s Baptism
Pippi was baptized on March 3 at Holy Spirit Seminary’s chapel by Archbishop Douglas W. Young, SVD of Mt. Hagen.
HSS chapel
Our neighbors Dalus and Raymond were proxy godparents, Perpetua’s godparents being in Vermont.
What do you ask of the church? Baptism!
In his homily, Abp. Doug recounted some of the story of St. Perpetua and Felicity, and how they stood up for their faith, even under pressure from both civil authorities and family members. Giving your child a Christian name, he said, was the first step in raising them in the faith.
Anastasia read the intercessions, and then a seminarian sang a litany of the saints.
She did very well.
in the name of the Father… and of the Son… and of the Holy Spirit
Fresh from the fount
clothed in the white garment, to remind her to bring her dignity unstained into the everlasting life of Heaven
I always get a shiver at the words in the post-baptismal prayer, “May she go out to meet Him when He comes, with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom.” This is the job description: to prepare this tiny person for a life in Glory.
Final blessing over the parents, we need it
The Rite 1 liturgy, chosen especially because the Eucharist prayers mention Anastasia and Perpetua, was beautiful.
Music provided by the seminarians
Afterwards we served cake and ice cream in the student dining hall. I brought Pippi over to the Archbishop to hold, and he held up his hands and said “Ah, yes! Come into the arms of the Church!”
A little smile for +Doug
Welcome to the Christian family, Perpetua, we love you.
Perpetua’s birth story
Or, an unplanned, unassisted home birth.
It’s a Saturday. I’m home with my three kids. I’m 39 weeks pregnant. I’m having on-and-off contractions, but just tightening, not painful ones. No big deal, just Braxton-Hicks, I say. They continue variably throughout the day but stop when I lay down to go to bed.
I wake up to use the bathroom like you do in the 3rd trimester. I have a contraction, but this time it’s more on the painful side. But there aren’t any more within 10 minutes, so I lay down to go to sleep again. This happens multiple times in the night. I give the baby some pep talks about how the grandparents are coming in 4 days and to stay inside just a bit longer. I don’t have any contractions lying down, just when I get up and move around. I tell myself I’ll wait until 5 am to tell my husband they’re getting painful. They’re still not falling in a pattern, and while they hurt, they’re nothing I have to vocalize through or really breathe that much through, either.
I’m laying down in bed again and I feel a pop. Oh no. My water has broken. I am both confused and suddenly in a hurry — in all my other labors my water has broken when I’m in transition. (But I can’t be in transition, that’s absurd.) Anyhow I wake up Brandon and we get dressed -it’s 3 am, Sunday, February 3rd. I’m putting last minute things in the Hospital bag and Brandon goes to wake up our neighbor to come stay with the children. She comes in, asks for a rosary, and we say a prayer. Brandon heads off to go get the car from the garage, about a 10 minute walk. The contractions are coming stronger now. I hang on to the kitchen table and breathe, then walk to the kitchen sink to fill up a water bottle to go in the bag. I am standing there when suddenly the contractions begin to come one right after another, on top of each other, one long contraction. “JesusMaryJoseph” I pray and clutch the kitchen counter. No,No, this can’t be happening…
Brandon arrives with the car and finds that I have ditched my skirt and am on my hands and knees on the kitchen floor, head downward. He urges me to get up and get in the car. I tell him I can’t, I’m having a contraction, that I am not going to make it. He tells me again to get up and I say that the baby’s head is right there. Our neighbor goes to get some towels. Brandon makes some frantic phone calls asking for guidance and I try not to push.
I am pushing anyway. The head is out, then the rest of the body in that satisfying slithery whoosh. “My baby-my precious baby!” Brandon has the baby in the towel, there is an umbilical cord all confused with everything, and Brandon is saying “It’s a- it’s a girl!” I manage to sit up, sort of on a towel, and Brandon passes me the baby, and she wants to nurse almost right away. I am so happy and relieved that it is all over, and that the baby is pinking up, and that I don’t have to have a nightmare ride to the hospital not pushing. Brandon is back on the phone with a nun who is a nurse, who says not to get in the car with the placenta still inside, and is trying to ring up the hospital where I was supposed to deliver. It is 4 am.
My four year old wakes up and comes into the kitchen. She doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the situation, unlike me. When she starts trying to help clean up we send her back to bed with strict instructions not to wake up the other children.
The baby is done nursing; I am trying to sit on a chair, but it is tricky with an umbilical cord in the way. Nursing has given me contractions so I stand up to try to push the placenta out. I squat and bear down and it comes out with a squishy thump on the floor, also much easier than my other births. Brandon puts it in a plastic bag to take to the hospital so they can check it’s all there. I contemplate the bizarre-ness of having one of your internal organs sitting on your lap in a bag. After consulting a birth book, Brandon ties a shoelace around the umbilical cord in two places, boils some water and pours it on the kitchen scissors, and cuts the umbilical cord. That done, the baby and I get dressed so we can go to the hospital.
Our faithful neighbor
I wolf down some dates, which are probably responsible for the whole situation (multiple studies confirm that eating 60 g of dates daily for the last month of pregnancy results in better birth outcomes and shorter labors) and we get in the car.
It is extremely strange to drive to the hospital with a newborn. The baby is weighed, measured, given a vitamin K shot – she is 3.2kg, 50 cm long. I am examined and I did not tear, glory to God. Brandon looks at a chart of blood-stain sizes and confirms that I didn’t lose copious amounts.
The nurses escort us to a room and we spend the next 11 hours dozing, nursing, debating name choices, eating egg sandwiches, drinking copious amounts of water so that I don’t have to get a rehydration IV, and debating name choices. The doctor and various nurses came in and listen to my tale in mixed astonishment and amusement.
First bath
We’re released from the hospital and we’re back at home introducing Perpetua Carolyn to her siblings by dinnertime.
Perpetua is the name of the patron saint of expectant mothers, who was a martyr, an African woman and one of the first female Christian authors.
Sts. Perpetua and Felicity
Carolyn is my Grandmother’s name, a model of faith and good humor.
❤
While it is only later that I reflect on all the things that could have gone wrong, I am filled with gratitude from the moment she’s born. Thank you, Jesus.
Quilt by Susan Crites Price, my former boss in long-ago, far-away Dupont Circle
Mt. Lalokea with Annie
At the end of October, I finally got a serious hike in with my friend, Fr. Marcin Wrobel, our Scripture lecturer. From CTI, one can see a mountain rising out of the flatlands to the north. Marcin celebrates mass regularly with a community near the base and he was kind enough to organize a hike for us one Sunday.
Lalokea is the mountain on the left in the distance.
We picked up some parishioners, parked the car at a family compound, and started the walk. The bottom of the mountain has a police shooting range, so there was a checkpoint:
Locals say that the police use this area for illegal exchanges . . .
The way up was a gravel road to a large radio tower. I, in a brilliant parenting move, forbade Annie from bringing her shoes because she wanted to go barefoot (and often hikes better barefoot). Well, the road hurt her feet so our going was a little slow.
See the rock formations at the top?
The view from the top was great:
Annie was really happy to off roading!
Free Style!
I’m happy to be on top of a mountain with Annie again.
Sadly, my camera ran out of power. . .
It took us about an hour to go up the road. We then spent about four hours bush-whacking through the top of the mountain. There was no trail, we were just hiking in front, behind, through, and atop the rock formations pictured earlier. There was one natural rock bridge framing a great view that was simply breathtaking. Marcin said that he plans on returning and building a hermitage.
Annie did great – until she cut her foot on a rock – but even then, she walked until we started going down and one of our guides was kind enough to carry her. I had been feeling epicly stressed by my work at CTI and an afternoon on a mountain gave me the peace and energy to make it through the next week.
I see this as a warm-up for Marcin and I doing the Kokoda Tract next year. I will need some serious conditioning . . .
Sacraments for a seven-year-old
Since she was about four, Annie has been waiting to participate in the eucharist.
A few weekends before her birthday, we heard the announcement that the seminarians were holding a first communion class. She faithfully attended and got instruction in a mix of tok pisin and English. We followed up at home with books recommended by Mater Amabilis, like Kendra Tierney’s Little Book About Confession.
The first sacrament of the weekend was her first confession. The 19 kids started by cleaning the church, then got some last instructions on how to eat a host properly. Her confessor was Fr. Jacek, a family friend.
Anastasia received her first communion on the Feast of Corpus Christi. The morning started with a procession to three different outdoor altars.
You can see the monstrance gleaming in the distance
She sang the responsorial psalm with four other girls.
Shalisa, Annie, Lydia, Shabasha
the elevation of the host
the elevation of the chalice
Body and blood, soul and divinity
Receiving a brown scapular and rosary
Also a certificate, now proudly displayed in her bedroom
Her class, with teachers Newman and Peter kneeling and Fr. Peter Silong in glasses at rear
Afterwards we had a party for her and house blessing. Fr. Joseph prayed over our family and sprinkled holy water on the whole house, even the laundry room.
Cope-aesthetic
Brandon and Annie reading a psalm during the blessing
It was a very good time – perhaps the most pleasant since we’ve come back to PNG. Lots of neighbors came to eat cookies, including two fellow communicants, Rebecca and Aaron. The grownups enjoyed looking at our photobooks, which were good conversation starters. CTI’s president tried reading Fox in Socks to Tabitha and started crying and laughing because he couldn’t get the tongue twisters. Tobiah played blocks with the other little boys. Towards the end, Annie spontaneously organized the older children to sing songs with her, including “Jesus Loves the Little Children” in Motu, the local tribal language. Fr. Joseph danced along with “Father Abraham.”
Rebecca, Elaine, and Jacelyn dancing
It was a joyful day.
Thank-you for your prayers and friendship.
Birthday at Adventure Park
Ever since we first visited in November last year, Annie and Tabitha were dreaming about having their birthday party at Adventure Park, just down the road from CTI. So last month we did!
Annie is seven, a reader, dancer, music player, and motormouth would-be leader.
Yes, she chose her own outfit
Tabitha is four, strong, dexterous, sweet, and stubborn.
With our friend Fr. Paul Sundu, visiting from Good Shepherd
We invited our neighbors, co-workers, and some of Annie’s school friends. We walked around and saw the lakes, a few of the zoo animals, and the many other picknickers. Then we had lunch, complete with homemade cake.
Crying because the cake was not in his mouth
Om nom nom
Fr. Marcin helps distribute cake while our neighbor Neville watches paddleboats
Then came the main event of the day: waterslides!
Thanks to Nonna for helping out with this part
Annie has water up her nose, but still decides to go down again
Parents watch from the shady stands
Annie and school friends Kimari and Zilda
More school friends – Khylane and Priscilla
Tobiah had a grand old time
Tobiah enters the slide with Daddy
Tabitha with our babysitter’s daughters
Brandon goes down the BIG slide
Some joyful chaos
The last event of the day was the crocodile feeding.
Here it comes…
Yes, that is a live chicken
Thanks for coming and celebrating our girls with us! They are very special to us, and I hope they always know that.
Annie and her first grade classmates
Eastertide Activities
We’re back to Ordinary Time now, but here’s a review of what we were up to during the 50 days of festivity.
Let’s start with the Easter Vigil. Here is the Easter fire. For scale, that is the priest with the Easter candle to the bottom right.
Dry wood, stuffed with grass, two stories high.
Fr. Joseph Vnuk, OP sings the exultet.
Annie and I sat on the balcony at Holy Spirit Seminary’s church for the Vigil Mass, which gave us a good view.
Seminarians dancing in procession.
We also went to the Easter Sunday mass the next day.
Brandon’s foot is 90% better now, PTL
Splurged on imported NZ apples for a special easter dessert
The next weekend, Divine Mercy Sunday weekend, we went to the beach for the first time! Fr. Jacek and Fr. Marcin, the Rector and Vice-Rector of Holy Spirit Seminary, showed us a favorite swimming place at Lea Lea Beach.
The tide was way, way out.
Everyone enjoyed looking for shells, even when they were supposed to be looking at the camera. We did find a few cowries to take home.
Tiny sand castle at Tabitha’s feet
Fr. Jacek and Fr. Marcin also gave us another gift- a cat! Her name is Mia. Tabitha is slightly obsessed.
I promise you, they are not twins, they are 18 months apart, really.
This is her photo smile.
Finally, we had some visitors from Jiwaka, which made us happy. Dr. Scott from Kujdjip Nazarene Hospital was in Moresby for some meetings and came by to catch up and play a boardgame.
Terraforming Mars, a christmas gift from my brother
And our beloved former neighbor, Bubu Anna, whose house our children played at daily, came to POM for a graduation in her family.
Picture taken by Anastasia
Our final exciting occurrence during eastertide was the girls’ birthday party, but that will have to wait for the next post!
Plotinus in the Jungle 