My Last Week

This is a summary of my last week in Haiti:

On Tuesday, we had a rainstorm. This wasn't so unusual as although rainy season has passed and we are into hurricane season, we had rain, thunder and lightning almost every night which is uncommon for this time of year. This particular night was my non-shower night and both Annika and I were sitting in the livingroom, reading, feeling very hot and very sticky. So when we heard the rain, we both had the same idea. At first we thought, well ok, let's see if it lasts but shortly there after, the rain became a terrential downpour. We ran down the stairs laughing and headed out the door to enjoy the warmth and the cool water that instantly saturated our clothing. It was incredibly refreshing and the spot we found most pleasing was where all the rain that was collecting on the roof of the toddler house came pouring off the corner of the building and fell like a waterfall, drenching us thouroughly and completely. It was the perfect way to end the day.

On Wednesday, I did something that has always terrified me. Something that I've never felt competent and confident enough to do, but was given the opportunity and knew instantly, without question, that God was saying "It's time, just trust me." and I had no choice but to conceed. We had a Bible study every Wednesday evening that began and ended with a few songs of worship. Leading worship is something that I am very comfortable with; accompanying myself on the piano is something that I am not. Anyone who knows me well will appreciate the significance of this particular act of obedience.

On Wednesday and Thursday mornings, we were asked to help Melanie (one of the GLA staff) fetch and prepare all 100 or so kids from the mainhouse for their monthly update photos. This was very exhausting and time consuming but a certain opportunity on Thursday morning made it all worth it. I had grabbed a random name from the pile and went down to the NICU to retreive the child, but when I asked the nanny which child it was, I was momentarily confused when she pointed to a very small premature infant that lay sleeping in a crib, as premies under 8lbs are not to be removed from the NICU by any of the volunteers. So I pointed to the baby and raised my eyebrows as if to say "Are you sure?" and she reiterated leaving me to conclude that this must be the exception. So I gently lifted the smallest baby I will probably ever hold and carefully carried him to the play balcony. I wiped his face and changed his little diaper and kept him in my arms longer then was necessary because he was a little gift from heaven and I had every intention of savoring such a moment.

Thursday afternoon, there was a commotion in the mainhouse, and for good reason: one of the nannies had given birth to a little baby girl. What makes this significant, though, was the circumstances of the birth. The nanny was complaining of stomach pains and requested permission to leave the mainhouse early. This was of course granted, but what she failed to mention was that she was in labour and she also neglected to call herself a car choosing instead to head home on foot. As this was her 5th child and things progressed rather quickly, it wasn't more than 15 minutes up the steep and rocky road that she began to give birth. People nearby came to her aid and Susan, the head nurse at GLA, accompanied by one of the Haitian nurses as well as a volunteer who was a nurse, were notified and ran from the house to help her. The baby was born in a very small, somewhat enclosed, tin shelter on the side of the road in the presence of a group of locals who had gathered nearby. Unfortunately, I didn't ever see the baby; the closest I got was when Susan walked by us briskly upon returning to the mainhouse and hurriedly when up the stairs to the NICU with a blanketed bundle in her arms. Haiti is a crazy place.

On Sunday afternoon, Molly and Melissa returned from the grocery store and informed us that we would be having dinner together; a feast of bacon, eggs, hasbrowns and pancakes. Nearly everyone pitched in to help in the kitchen. I was on bacon duty and in the absence of an overhead light, made use of my headlamp to ensure a batch of perfectly cooked and crisp bacon...much to the amusement of everyone else in the room. It was wonderful to cook and eat together like a family and I am proud to say that my bacon was deamed by all as...perfect.

I was not looking forward to saying godbye on Wednesday. I spent the morning with each of my kids, taking about a half hour with each of them but leaving time for my final goodbyes. I kept it together until my final baby, Finder. Up until that point, my emotional defense mechanism had kept me feeling quite numb but I made the mistake of dropping my guard, letting myself feel, and had to leave the balcony to compose myself during my time with him. Then came the final goodbyes. I ended with the big nursery and took a moment to cuddle and kiss each of my babies and tell them that I love them. This was incredibly hard and broke my heart and it took sometime afterwards before I could speak to anyone without breaking down. I had a quick lunch, gave a hug and a kiss to all the Haitian kitchen staff and gave hugs to all the volunteers and staff members that I've come to love, before jumping in the SUV with James and heading to the airport. The Port-Au-Prince airport was very hot and very chaotic and I had to walk across the tarmac barely 30 feet from a taxiing airliner to get to my plane. This was very loud and slightly intimidating and the wind coming from the taxiing plane's engines caused me to hold on to my passport and plane ticket a little tighter then necessary, but I quite enjoyed it. My planes both departed and arrived at their scheduled times but the actual flights weren't exactly what I'd call pleasant. The first flight was frigid nearly to the point of shivering and the nasty Haitian head cold that I got from my babies and have been suffering from since Tuesday made the descent quite painful as my ears refused to equalize. My one ear was left completely plugged and I spent my time in the Panama City airport half deaf and in a bubble. My second flight, I was warm enough but the damage I'd done to my right eardrum caused it to ache painfully throughout the whole flight and the second descent was even worse. I was literally gripping the arm rests, face scrunched up, praying for reprieve until I thought to try the plugging your nose and pushing the air out method. This did work to keep my head from exploding but the descent was still painful and I remained half deaf until my ear finally cleared Thursday morning. Bonnie and Will (the son of the pastor of the church community that Bonnie knows) were there for my late arrival and I remember that night as being overwhelming as I was having trouble coming to terms with where I'd been and where I now was.

I hope to write about this more in the future, but for now...Cuba...