The first part of this post was taken from Meredith’s journal, written on March 10th.
Clesia had her baby today. I have been looking forward to this day since I met her. Her smile drew me in instantly and I felt a bond with her that is difficult to describe in words, a connection shared by two strangers from different cultures. Right as she waddled into the clinic at 31 weeks pregnant I knew we were going to be friends. I was struck by her beauty, her kind manner and her infectious smile, despite being a refugee from Port Au Prince. I have mentioned Clesia before since I work with her brother Obed at the clinic and when he told me 16 family members had arrived at his door after fleeing Port Au Prince- and one being his pregnant sister, I told him to have her come for a visit. Clesia arrived from Port Au Prince with literally a pair of clothes and her son Samuel. She had no paperwork documenting any sort of care during her pregnancy. She said her due date was Feb 28th but she walked with a saunter that left me thinking she was closer to term than 31 weeks.
After her initial visit I continued to follow up with home visits, taking her blood pressure, making sure she was eating well, screening for pre-ecclampsia, talking about breastfeeding- but mainly just to spend time with her and her beautiful belly. Her baby was always so active, “l’ap bouje” (that means, she’s kicking!). She would say to me all the time and I would just rest my hands on her belly feeling the movement and getting to know the little one inside. Visiting Clesia became one of my favorite things to do. Our conversations were simple, focused on her and the baby, but our time together was so sincere and sweet. She would greet me with a hug and kiss and grab my face in her hands. Being a victim of the earthquake cast a dark shadow on her life and I could see the stress of the situation through her brother. He would confide in me all the troubles they were having, so many people under one roof, struggling to buy food and no idea what the future would hold. Clesia’s husband remained in Port Au Prince because he did not want to be a burden on Obed up here in Terrier Rouge.
Obed’s wife also had family arrive after the quake. Her sister had been in the hospital during the quake and was being treated for an infection a few weeks post partum. She was able to make it out of the building alive but returned home to find her house destroyed. By the time she and her three children made it to Terrier Rouge days later she had a 103 fever, typhoid and malaria. I first met her at the clinic when I was asked to start some IV fluids on her. Her health was only the beginning of her problems though. While in the hospital her milk supply dried up so she was forced to buy formula for her baby. On one of our house visits, we found out that her baby had been only given tea for the past three days because they were unable to buy formula. Seeing the tea in the baby’s bottle filled my heart with a sadness and rage that left me feeling helpless. We were able to give them some formula from the clinic- but as that supply was finished they were back to tea. I gave them some money the following week and tried to stress over and over again the importance of formula. Now she is living in Cap Haitian with her parents and three girls. I hear they are all doing okay but her malaria is still causing fevers, as it was resistant to the chloroquine- but she could not find another drug to treat it. All I can do now is hope and pray the baby is drinking milk and she is finding better treatment for her malaria- a difficult task for a family with nothing and no money.
Last night was my most recent visit to this burdened household and I am sad to say matters are only getting worse and more difficult. Clesia was 1 week over due, according to her memory from care in Port Au Prince, her ultrasound in Terrier Rouge confirmed this, but ultrasounds at 31 weeks are not as accurate. As soon as I walked through the door I placed my hands on Clesia’s belly and asked how her daughter was. She looked at me with concern and said the baby had not moved since yesterday morning. My heart dropped to the floor and I just knew the baby was dead. The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. Thanks to the fact that Berry was in town we had a car to drive to the hospital. As we piled in the car I was overcome by that same sense of sadness and frustration, why is this happening? Has she not been through enough suffering yet? Could this have been prevented?
We bumped down the road- avoiding the wandering goats and cows and made it to the hospital about 40 mins away. We were forced to wait outside in the dark parking lot, as it was late and no one but patients were allowed in Maternity. My suspicion was confirmed as Obed came out to tell me there was no heartbeat. Because we had a connection with a doctor at the hospital we were able to have Obed’s wife stay with Clesia for the night. Clesia came out of the hospital to see us- and we just hugged. The doctor came out too, some questions were answered and it was time for her to be admitted and us to leave. We stood outside for a bit with the smell of urine in the air and the site of family members getting ready to sleep outside the hospital. I looked at Clesia and she had her hands clasped against her chest, eyes closed, swaying side to side. She said to me, “god still lives, we have not lost the battle.”
As I said goodbye I held her close, feeling her belly press up against me with her little girl inside. This little amazing person I had been feeling kick and wiggle for over a month, but I would never get to know more than that. After hugging I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I stepped back to look at her. Her face for the first time was cold and sad, she looked at me holding back tears and I could see the pure pain in her face. She turned and walked up the ramp to the hospital alone, to await the delivery of her daughter. We loaded back in the car to drive home, everyone exhausted. I thought of the task ahead for Obed, calling his brother in law in Port Au Prince, who has lost everything, to say he has lost his daughter. How can any one person bear this much weight and pain? When we finally arrived home I was too tired to think, I climbed into bed to put my mind to rest, the reality seemed too sad to believe. Clesia is one small story of women in Haiti, one small story of the life of a refugee from Port Au Prince. She is just an example, there are so many more out there who have lost parents, friends, sisters, brothers, children and will continue to lose them from infection, cholera and malnutrition. She is also one story of maternal infant health and what it means to be pregnant in Haiti. I realize this happens too in the US, but needless to say our ability to detect and prevent such tragedies from occurring is far better than here in Haiti. I bet her daughter had Clesia’s smile.
Switching gears now to a more uplifting topic. The rabbit project is advancing! We are really encouraged by all the interest we've received so far from you all. On Monday morning we held our planning meeting with Village Nativity, the Makouti agronomist, and IDDH to finalize the details. We discussed how this project can benefit the whole community, since only five families out of twenty will be receiving cages to start. We decided that the rabbit producers would provide rabbit meat for the whole village. We have also been planning a structure to protect the cages from sun, rain, and theft. The village has recently been having problems with outsiders stealing anything from their streetlight’s solar panel to the fish in their pond. The house we designed will be built from stone, cement, chicken wire, and metal roofing, and will have room for eight 4-chambered cages, so that there is room for growth. (Future producers will be able a buy cages on credit that can be repaid with rabbit). This structure is part of the project that will end up costing more than we originally thought. Despite that all the labor will be provided by the rabbit producers, from making cinder blocks to searching stone for the foundation, this structure will cost 750 dollars. But we decided that this is something which is worth doing right. We don’t want to leave this project’s success vulnerable to theft, or build a shoddy structure that needs to be replaced in a couple years.
This raises our fundraising goal to 1,250 dollars. So we can start this project now Meredith and I are paying for the project up front, and Seeds of Self Reliance will reimburse us with any donations for the rabbit project that they receive. Once again, a tax deductible donation can be mailed to Seeds of Self Reliance, 3727 RT 15
Jeffersonville, VT, 05464, and write “rabbit” on your check.
Thank you!!!
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