We left the orphanage today to the sound of the children singing praise to the lord during Sunday service. The drums beat quietly in the background. I feel sentimental as we were greeted the same way our first morning there.
At the orphanage
The first thing I did at the hospital in Hinche was catch a dead baby. The last thing I did at the hospital this morning was pick up a dead 17 month old off the floor where he had been asleep by his mother and to place him in the crib and tell his wailing mother I was sorry. Sorry that they had been there for 4 days and no one had given him the medication he had needed. Sorry his limbs were cold with death and his body and head were still burning with meningitis fever. Sorry I hadn’t been able to save him when I heard her scream in Creole, “Where are the doctors and nurses at this hospital? Everyone sleeps while my baby dies!” Sorry that when I put my stethoscope to his chest I heard nothing. Sorry that when I looked at his chart that it said “fever and diarrhea” and her baby was not given IV antibiotic.
He was a beautiful child. I think she had nursed him as he was fat with chubby, cute cheeks and curly hair.
Is there nothing we can do to help these dying children?
“Mwe regret sa yon timoun ki mouri.” I’ve learned to say, “I am sorry your baby has died” in Creole.
February 28, 2010 at 9:35 pm
goosebumps…
March 2, 2010 at 3:23 pm
I’m crying and praying, Jennifer. God bless you.
March 5, 2010 at 7:45 am
Oh that poor mama. Her baby was the same age as my child. I just can’t imagine.
March 5, 2010 at 4:16 pm
What an amazing experience. Your sister sent me the link and I’m enjoying reading about your adventures and am grateful that people like you are willing to go help those in need regardless of where they are on earth. Thank you.