Januka Regmi is getting ready for her first child. The 25-year-old TwinFalls woman, due in early May, knows to call her doctor if she has stomach cramps. She knows not to prematurely rush to the doctor, but to call immediately if she has discharge or bleeding. She already has pre-registration forms filled out.

The Bhutanese refugee is partly prepared because of new maternity classes at theCollege of Southern Idaho Refugee Center. Those sessions, along with family-planning classes, are part of a joint effort between the refugee center and volunteer nurses who are striving to make the new Twin Falls residents feel comfortable about reproductive health.

The facts of life are the same everywhere. But the facts of birth-control buying or delivery-room decisions can be radically different.

Though the volunteers are employees at St.Luke’s Magic Valley Regional Center, the program is unrelated to St. Luke’s services, said volunteer Alisha Baithavong. Nurses got together independently with the refugee center and asked how they could help after seeing many refugee couples who knew nothing about the hospital delivery process.

Registered nurse Jessica Hockenberry got the idea at an October conference in Boise. Meanwhile, employees at the refugee center were approaching community health organizations in hopes of organizing a class. When the two groups got together in late October, they quickly formed a plan and held their first class the next month.

Regmi and her husband, Krishna, came to Twin Falls in 2008 after spending 17 years in a refugee camp in Nepal. The Regmis were among 100,000 ethnic Nepalis who were forced from Bhutan nearly 20 years ago.

Twin Falls became the home for 365 refugees from various countries in the 2009 fiscal year, and the refugee center plans to resettle 300 to 400 more by September 2010.

Many of those refugees are young families. In just the past four months, about a dozen babies were born to refugees recently resettled to Twin Falls, said the center’s volunteer coordinator, Michelle Pospichal. Before the classes, pregnant women usually came to the hospital too early or too late. They didn’t understand admission processes and didn’t always have interpreter contacts, Pospichal said.

“They had no idea about the process,” Hockenberry agreed. The classes are meant to ease stress on both families and hospital staff.

The maternity classes are split into two sessions. The first focuses on topics like hospital policies, equipment, what to expect leading up to delivery, when a mother should go to the hospital and pain-management options. A video tour of the hospital shows what to expect.

Often, refugees don’t know what different kinds of equipment do, and are unaware that they have a say in their care,Pospichal said.

“Many of these women, either it’s their first child or it’s their first time having a child in an actual hospital setting,” she said.

The second class focuses on postpartum issues, like diapers, breast-feeding and how to use a car seat.

These classes — scheduled as needed — are taught to people from different nations at the same time; couples from Bhutan and Burma came to the last class. Burmese and Nepali interpreters stood on different sides of the room. During the class, couples fill out pre-registration forms that include health information, religious beliefs, interpreter contacts and food preferences — many Hindus don’t eat beef, and others are vegetarian.

At separate family-planning classes, volunteers like Hockenberry teach participants about different kinds of birth control. Most refugees are familiar with at least some kinds of birth control, but aren’t sure where to get them or how much they cost, Pospichal said. For now, family-planning classes are divided by culture.

“It’s a touchy subject for any culture, really,”Pospichal said. An Iraqi couple might react differently to birth control suggestions than a couple from Tanzania, and people might feel more comfortable asking questions in front of friends who hail from the same country. Even with the separated classes, funny moments still arise: An interpreter at a recent class had problems explaining the birth control myth of using plastic wrap as a condom, and why it doesn’t work.

Januka and Krishna Regmi said the maternity class is helping them prepare for their son, who will be named in a ceremony 11 days after he is born. There is still some confusion — they know they are due in May, but thought gestation was more like 45 weeks instead of 40 — but they feel confident that they can navigate the hospital when Januka goes into labor.

After all, as a first-time dad, Krishna has enough to worry about.

Melissa Davlin may be reached at 735-3234 or melissa.davlin@lee.net.