Cry Haiti

Memories of the power outage

2009-11-14T06:56:00.000-08:00

Two weeks ago, we lost power at the main house. The second and third floors were affected, meaning no lights, no refrigerators and no electrical appliances in the nurseries.

By the grace of God, we had no sick babies at that time; no-one needing oxygen or an incubator, no real crisis. Dixie's teenage sons were real troopers. On their own initiative, they strung extension cords upstairs for us.Thanks to their hard work, we were able to light the nurseries for the smallest babies with desk lamps and we also had a source of power to drive our nebulizer machine.

I will remember that as the week that the night nannies and I played Florence Nightingale, doing our evening rounds in the big nursery by torchlight. A few of our little ones are scared of the dark but they all giggled and oohed aahed as I made light patterns on the ceiling for them. The memories are fond, and untainted by worry or anxiety.

I will also remember suturing my first knife-wound by the light of a lamp, that week. A neighbourhood boy came for help after he got into a disagreement with his 12 year old sister. His poor Grand-mother sat with her hands covering her face the whole time I was cleaning and anaesthetising and suturing.

A few days later, when he came back for a check-up, I asked him how he and his sister were getting along. His family at home had beaten her, he told me. Did he think she deserved that? Did it make him glad. No! He shook his head back back and forth rapidly, as though trying to shake of the memory. Why not? Because that is his sister, that's why not. It was touching to hear that.

Over the past few months, we have only admitted children whose cases have been critical. It is taking up to 2 years to process adoptions and with donations down and space at a premium, the staff here have a responsibility to guard the well-fare of the little ones that are all ready in our care; to ensure that we do not have to compromise on the quality of care the receive.

This gorgeous baby boy (don't be fooled by the peach tones!) came just before the power outage,
at a little over a week old, and weighing 5lb 13oz. His Mother had died shortly after he was born. He was dehydrated, jaundiced and showing signs of weight loss. His family could not afford to buy infant formula and so he had received only water since he was born.

Baby N's case was therefore critical and he was admitted right away. A few days after he arrived he developed a cold and began having diarrhoea and vomiting. The NICU nannies and our head Haitian nurse were very clear about what they wanted to do for this little one.

The previous week, we were blessed to have a nursing mother come to visit her adoptive son, here at the baby house. The lady's birth son had not travelled to Haiti with her and so she was expressing milk, so that she could maintain her supply during her trip. She donated the expressed milk to us, to be frozen and used to help any fragile baby we thought could benefit from it.

The Haitian staff wanted me to thaw some of this milk for Baby N. This is quite remarkable because Haitians are not fans of giving a mother's milk to an infant that is not her own. The ladies here, though, have seen a great many premature infants thrive on breast milk, while others have struggled to tolerate formula. They had seen that Breast milk was easier to digest, and they were very open to hearing about the immune boosters in 'Mummy milk.'

After just two days of being fed breast milk, Baby N was no longer showing signs of illness and he was gaining weight. What a precious gift this Mother has given to this sick, orphaned baby! We really are so grateful to her.

Time is Marching On

2009-10-24T05:44:00.000-07:00

The pace of life at GLA does not compare to the frenetic environment of a general Paediatric ward. Yet somehow, three weeks have passed since I last blogged, or journalled.

There have been trying times, but lets not dwell on those. Instead, let's take a look at the moments from which I have drawn my strength; those that have sustained me.

A few short days after I last posted, we were visited by Ti Mirak (our little miracle boy, Jonathon.) Jonathon came to us in May, after his Mother delivered him and his twin brother 8 weeks before her due-date. He was close to death on arrival, and stopped breathing a few days later.

Whenever we discharge a preemie, we tell their Mamas that if the little one becomes unwell during the first year of life, they may bring them back to GLA to be assessed. Jonathon's Mummy was at home in bed with a nasty cold. Jonathon had been feverish for three days and he arrived here with two Aunties and an uncle.

Jonathon was thoroughly examined. He was bright and alert, if a little bit miserable. He was feeding well and didn't have any diarrhoea or vomiting. There were no signs of infection in his chest but his throat and ears were a little bit red.I prescribed paracetamol syrup(Tylenol)and an antibiotic.

At Five and a half months, Jonathon weighs in at over 12 lb. That is quite good for a Haitian baby and it is fantastic for one that was born over 2 months premature! Mme Bernard advised the family that they could start offering Jonathon some weaning foods. His Aunties were horrified.
'No!' one exclaimed!' He isn't 6 months old yet!' We counselled his mother to breast-feed Jonathon exclusively for the first 6 months of his life so that he would have the best chance of survival. Apparently, Jonathon's family are following this advice very carefully! It was encouraging to see Jonathon thriving and so well loved and cared for!

After 11 days, Ti Fi was finally able to breath without supplemental oxygen. She health remains unstable but she continues to make great strides in her development. She is now able to roll from her front to her back and vice-versa. She can shuffle across the floor when she is sitting and she scoots backwards when she is lying on her belly. Last week, I found her underneath her crib!

Two week ago today, I was called to the waiting area to assess a preemie, who had arrived with his Daddy. Lyovens was born around 6 weeks early and we found him to be very tiny for his age (just 3lb 3oz). He is a beautiful boy. He was well wrapped up but cold . He had been born 3 days earlier and hadn't received a single drop of fluid. He had a good, strong cry and I felt hopeful, if in a cautious way that he might live. I'd had a tough week, and Lyovens arrival coincided with a bi-monthy volunteer and staff outing. I wouldn't be able to go, but it didn't matter. Suddenly, I was re-energised. It felt as though God was smiling down on me.

Many of our parents are very afraid of their premature babies, and the things that we do (medically) to sustain them. Lyoven's family however, are very laid back about it all. His Father told me that GLA previously helped Lyoven's older sister, who was also born premature. She is now 6 years old and in school!

Lyovens needed a feeding tube for the first week he was with us. I am pleased to report that he is now breast-feeding. He lost weight initially. We started him on just 5ml of milk, every two hours and gradually increased the volumes. Today, he weighs 3lb 7oz. He still needs to be in an incubator. The biggest risk factor for him is that he is so small for his age. That means he wasn't getting what he needed in the womb and is starting off at a disadvantage.

Yet if there were no difficulty in his life, there would be no scope for a miracle.

A Cup of Water

2009-10-05T18:52:00.000-07:00

Monday: We are all up on the third floor balcony. 'We' being (close to)100 babies, 20 nannies, 3 nurses, and a handful of volunteers. Absolute madness! Little bodies darting everywhere. Into everything, pulling, tugging, pushing, bumping and crashing. The Haitian ladies sit in the shaded areas, oblivious to the chaos, seeming unperturbed the cacophony. But then, the atmosphere up here is only a little bit crazier than the big nursery.

1pm: It is after lunch. 'These babies need to sleep,' I declare. My Haitian colleague looks at me disbelievingly. 'These children will not sleep.'

An hour later, I am sitting amongst a sea of sleeping tots. I have single handedly managed to settle all but three of the toddling babies. Everyone is glad. Looking around, I sigh. Each tiny girl and boy has their unique quirks. Some have been rocked to sleep, others have had their backs rubbed or their bottoms patted. Some have fought nap-time. Others were out within seconds. One little man is holding his ear. Another has his hand inside his nappy. Oh Oh!

Seriously though; they are all so different and special. I have been hot, tired and irritable, but watching all these little chests rise and fall I am suddenly overcome with feelings of warmth and tenderness.

Tuesday is weigh-in day. The numbers aren't good. Overnight, we have been hit by an epidemic of diarrhoea. and vomiting. A few children are looking quite dehydrated. All are in need of pedialyte (oral rehydration solution). Some cannot keep down even sips of fluid. They need injections of anti-emetics to help with the vomiting. Amazingly no-one needs IV fluids.

Wednesday: We are still in the throws of the epidemic. We have also had an outbreak of hepatitis among the grown-up's at the orphanage. Some of the newer children have tested positive and many others have been having mysterious fevers, and symptoms of possible hepatitis infection. All of them need to have blood drawn drawn. It is a major operation. Lollipops are placed in mouths. With a few notable exceptions, there is very little crying or flailing.

Thursday: Ti Fi went back to the NICU at the end of last week. Many of the babies have colds but she has developed a high fever and we cannot get it down. She had a chest x-ray a few days ago. it showed a pneumonia. Ti Fi was started on an antibiotic last night, but she has deteriorated overnight. She needs oxygen. She is fractious and looks at me pleadingly. I pick her up. She burns in my arms. She is panting and I can feel her heart hammering under my palm. The monitor reports a heart rate of 210 per minute. I get 208!

Ti Fi is so fragile and we are concerned that her little body will tire. Our paediatrician does not think that she can keep up this level of effort for long. She is seriously ill but although I desperately wish I could take away the hacking cough and the raging fever, and although I am anxious for my Ti Fi, I have an inexplicable peace that she can overcome this.

Late morning: I am asked to go to see a premature baby. His Aunts have brought him here. I learn that he was born in Delma (close to Port-au-Prince) earlier today. It is immediately obvious that it is too late. He is is waxen and very still, but oh so, beautiful. The sorrow I feel is strangely sharp.

I have been thinking lately, that I am in danger of shutting down emotionally. Now, a still, small voice whispers in my subconcsious that I am not to harden my heart. I cannot fullfill his commission if I do that.

Friday: I am in my room, and I hear Ti Fi's oxygen machine bleeping. Stepping outside, looking up at the NICU, I see that the first floor of the Main House is in darkness. The generator has failed. There is no power to light the house or drive the oxygen concentrator.

I rush up to the NICU to find Ti Fi struggling to breathe. By the light of a cellphone, I see that she is blue. The Pulse oximeter tells us that her transcutaneous oxygen saturation is 73%. That is life threatening!

The power comes and goes. I hastily gather together a bag of emergency supplies. It has been decided that Ti Fi and I will spend the night at the toddler house (about a mile up the mountain). They are not set up to deal with very sick children, but at least they have a more reliable power source than we do.

3am: after a rough night, Ti Fi and I finally catch some sleep. The IV has become dislodged and is out and my little lady remains feverish. She has a spasmodic cough and is constantly reaching for me.

I have missed her so much since I returned her to the NICU last week. I am glad to have this chance to love her through her sickness.

I wake just after sunrise, and am rewarded by a tiny smile from Ti Fi. Sometimes, I think, it is the little things that make the greatest difference in the lives of my babies. To be touched, to be held....

Shortly after lunchtime, we are heading back to the main house. Everyone at Kay B (the toddler house) has been so gracious but I am overwhelmed by relief to be headed back to the main orphanage building, and to have some medical back-up again.

The rest of the weekend: don't ask because I don't know. I got all of two hours sleep on Friday night, and was unable to nap when I got back to my own bed the next day.

One thing I do remember: being slightly thirsty, and desperately tired, and not having water in my room or the energy to go and get some. I had been complaining to my room-mate, the night before, telling her how much I missed Scottish water. I absent-mindedly reached out my hand. I don't why, and I found a cup of water where there had been none. It was cold, clear and pure; just like the water at home. I know my God is near me!

Like Springtime

2009-09-20T17:08:00.000-07:00

Ti Fi,

Ill-equipped though your grand-father was to raise a baby, he did not visit the magistrate for a full two months after your Manman died. Surely, his steps were leaden on the way to the court that day. There must have been some level of struggle in his mind, between the desire to hold fast to you, his tiny grand-daughter, and the need to give you up for your own sake. If there had not been such a struggle, why would he have waited?

You arrived at our home, sick and emaciated, parched in body, and with eyes that betrayed a heart, equally parched by grief. A beautiful flower, scorched and uprooted. That was you, Ti Fi. And so I planted you in the garden of my own heart.

There was no relief in her countenance. There were gentle hands to tend to her, there was treatment for her dehydration and there were medications for the fever and infections that wracked her little body. Still, she refused to feed, and was in a state of decline. She needed love, I knew, and an abundance of it. Dixie was in the States with Vivianne, a key member of the Haitian staff. I was tired with additional duties I had taken on, and yet, a still small voice urged me to open my arms and draw Ti Fi close. And that is how he ended up in my room.

Sure enough, within a matter of days Ti Fi smiled. They say that the best prognostic indicator (of survival) in a severely malnourished child is a smile. Here it was. Hope born in both our hearts.

As the days and weeks passed, I saw a rejuvenation in Ti Fi's spirit that spoke of the miracle of God's creation; the capacity of a child's heart to heal. New growth as in springtime. She began looking at the NICU nannies and nurses with wonder and she became very interested in toys and in her surroundings. Soon, she she found a voice. 'Ah haa haa' (the cutest giggle), Hi nah (a greeting), 'aaah' (to express her delight) and 'hey' (this one is to get our attention.)

Did I mention that she sings too?

She found the strength to sit unsupported, when, a few days before she couldn't even hold her head up. Within the month she was not only weight bearing on her legs but she was "climbing" from my lap to the top of my head, beaming and triumphant.

Yet love alone has not been enough to restore this precious girl's broken body. She has had an NG tube for 6 weeks now, much longer that I am comfortable with. It seems that Ti FI has health challenges, the extent of which we do not fully understand at this point. She becomes breathless when she sucks her bottle or eats from a spoon. Her heart races and she sweats. She is only able to tolerate formula that is comprised of partially broken down proteins, and she must be feed small regular volumes if she is to hold her feeds down.

Her weight gain is slow, even now that the diarrhoea and vomiting are under control. If early indications are anything to go by, it may take three times longer to recover this baby from her malnutrition than I would have hoped.

More time, more work, more patience than I thought I had. More laundry and more frustration than I thought I could deal with. And looking at this precious girl, who has suffered so much sickness, loss and pain, and who is so absolutely brimming with joy, how can I possibly say that I am overburdened? What reason have I to complain?

'I am he. I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you...' (Isaiah 64:4).

Ti Fi weighed 8lb and 40z on admission. Today she has gained 3lb. She is becoming chubby, and she is a beautiful, delightful baby who absolutely has my heart.

Ti Fi with 'M' (left). He is my boy, she is my girl and M has whole heartedly accepted Ti Fi as his baby. They are so cute together. He is very protective and will not allow the other children to touch her. He points out a great many things of note to her. Ti Fi, much to M's delight is smiley and responsive.

She seems to have turned a corner this weekend; I haven't used the NG tube at all. She needs continuing prayer for healing. So Lord, heal this precious baby of ours according to your perfect will, and give her for every sickness, every sorrow and every pain she has suffered, a double portion of joy.

Amen

An Update On My "Problem Children"

2009-09-05T13:01:00.000-07:00

Sandia Laura's family were unhappy that we would not be able to care for her here. Before we could organise a car to take them to a hospital, her 16 year old Mother left with the baby. We heard that they kept Sandia at home for a day. Somehow, she ended up in General Hospital in Port Au Prince. We do not know what her diagnosis was or what kind of care she received. What we do know is this; a few days ago, Sandia Laura passed away. It is difficult to understand why such a tiny baby should suffer so much in the few days she lived on this earth. We are comforted to know that she exchanges all this pain for an eternity in Heaven.

***

Baby Mike became very sick a few days into his stay with us. His abdomen was distended, his colour changed to a deep red, and he began bleeding from his mouth and nose and under his nails. By the time he became ill, we had received devastating news from his Aunt.

Baby Mike's Mother had been carrying twins. Her Labour had progressed so rapidly, that, caught unawares, she had delivered Mike into the bucket she used as her toilet. She was unable to deliver the second twin. She went to a hospital, where she had a caesarian. It was too late for Mike's twin, who died in utero. Mike's Mum died the following day.

We contacted a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner in the USA. She felt that Mike was suffering from an overwhelming infection, possibly listeriosis, which his Mother would have contracted from eating contaminated food.

We learned that with treatment, there was a 20-40% chance that Mike would die. To our great distress, we were unable to site an IV line to give this baby the fluids and antibiotics he needed. It was late at night and there was nothing for it but to provide unconventional care. I gave antibiotics by injection. I then placed a tiny needle under his skin and connected it to a bag of IV fluids. IV fluids were slowly infused overnight. It was not ideal but fluid was gradually absorbed into his system.

The next morning, Mike was alive and crying loudly. We were so impressed by our courageous boy, and as you might understand, desperate to do everything that we could to save his life. Our Paediatrician arrived and managed to start an IV. Things were looking up. The Doctors were optimistic that he might live, and Mike definitely had fighting spirit.

Unknown to us, there was trouble brewing. At home, Mike's Grand-Father was demanding that the women of the family go to GLA and demand that we return his Grand-son to them. We explained that Mike was critically ill, and that he would die without oxygen,. IV antibiotics and fluid. We explained that he was too small and weak to survive out of the incubator, but that in a few short weeks, things might be very different. There was no talking with them. No reasoning.

When they returned the next day with Baby Mike's Father, GLA's hands were tied. We re-iterated them that Mike would die, but they were insistent that they wanted him home. The Haitian nurses were obliged to remove the IV, take off the oxygen prongs, wrap the baby warmly and hand him over to his family, all the while knowing that death was inevitable for him now.

One of the staff tells me that Mike's parents are not from this area. Their home town is a Voodoo stronghold. Haitians are deeply spiritual people and it is likely that the family believe that an evil spirit caused the death of the Mother and Mike's twin, and that this spirit was still attached to Mike. This being this case, they would have no faith in the power of Western medicine to change a thing.

Mike's Aunt lives a few hundred yards from our gate. Minutes after the family left, as I sat on the NICU balcony cursing his family and grieving for Mike and for them and their country, this spiritual shadow land where people live bound by beliefs that hurt and harm, the steady beat of traditional drums began sounding...

***

Baby D's blood work indicated that she was suffering from a severe bacterial infection. We never did find the source. As the days passed, her colour improved and her heart rate slowed. We kept her on a strong antibiotic for two weeks, so that we could be as sure as we can be that the bacteria that made her sick has been eradicated from where ever it was growing. Baby D is back to her usual happy, smiling self. We will continue to watch her closely.

***

And Ti Fi.... We have had a hard few weeks, but she has turned a corner.Hers is a story for another day.

Problem Children

2009-08-23T16:15:00.001-07:00

Last week I was too busy with "Ti Fi" to be updating any blog. Ti Fi was delivered into our arms a week and a half ago. She is around 8 months old and has been in the care of her Grand-Father for the past 2 months. She weighed 8lb 4oz when she arrived.

She was all loose skin and jutting bones. Last Saturday, she began bruising spontaneously and was refusing to drink. She had been having a lot of diarrhoea and was dehydrated.

Malnourished children can bruise due to vitamin K deficiency, lack of clotting factors in their blood or because of severe infections. I examined her thoroughly but did not find any sign of infection. We started her on an antibiotic anyway, just as a precaution. We also started vitamin K supplementation. Thankfully, there has been no new bruising this week.

To be absolutely sure that Ti Fi receives the level of love and attention she needs to set her on the road to recovery, she has moved in with me. She has made good progress; she has gained over a pound, is smiling a lot and has found the strength to sit unsupported for short periods. Needless to say, I am smitten and you will be hearing much more about her!
So that is problem child number one, although I wouldn't call her a problem exactly. Problem child number two arrived yesterday, just as I was looking forward to a quiet weekend. She was born a month prematurely and is from the area in which the orphanage is located. Mum brought her to us because the baby was vomiting. She was born on Wednesday and it transpires that she has never passed a bowel motion. It looks as though she has some sort of obstruction in her gut. I placed a feeding tube down her nose and aspirated 70 cc of bile from her stomach, which, far exceeds a new born's stomach capacity.

Sandia Laura is on IV fluids and antibiotics. We are aspirating her stomach contents every two hours to make sure that she doesn't aspirate. We will transfer her to a hospital in the city for surgical evaluation first thing tomorrow morning. Please pray for Sandia.

Mike is problem child number 3. He is also from our area and he is an extremely low birth-weight boy, weighing 2lb 4oz and born approximately 10 weeks before he was supposed to make his debut appearance in this world. Mike was born early this morning and he arrived at GLA just after 9am. He was having some difficulties with his breathing at first. and he was very, very cold and had a low heart rate. When I left the NICU, he was warm, pink and crying. I want this baby to live so badly it hurts. God, mature his lungs and give him the strength to live through the next few weeks.

Problem child number 4 is a year old. D had a cellulitis (soft tissue infection) in her leg a few weeks ago. Today, she developed a slight fever and became very, very pale. She was breathing 8o times per minute and had a heart rate of over 200/minute. She is very unsettled and seems to be in pain, but a top-to-toe examination has failed to find a convincing source for the infection. I did a blood draw on her this afternoon and started her on an antibiotic and regular pain medicines. We will have to watch her very closely. We nurses do not like not knowing the cause of a fever in a child.

I laughed when the night nurse came in. She smiled nervously.I smiled back. 'You wont rest tonight,' I told her. 'I didn't rest all day! 'We went on to discuss the babies we (affectionately) refer to as our problem children. Hopefully, they will all be 'good', or, in other words, remain stable over night. This nurse desperately needs some beauty sleep and she wont be getting any if any of her little darlings misbehave.

2009-08-08T08:39:00.000-07:00

The telephone in the main house rang, and rang and rang last night. It was 9pm and the office was closed, but the ringing was so insistent (read irritating) that I went to answer the call.

The Mother of one of my NICU babies wanted to visit. I told her that the house was closed to visitors over the weekend. She kept asking, 'If God willed,' could she come in the morning? I wanted to say yes, but told her instead that no-one worked in the office on Saturdays. She could come on Monday, though, 'God willing', to see her baby.

She paused for a moment. 'Is he sleeping', she asked? My heart ached for her then. Her tiny son is happy in our arms but her own saddness will not be quick to fade. She will always wonder what he is doing.

We admitted four new babies this week. Miss Magaly decided that we were going to do blood draws on them that very day. I met each of their Manmans. It is rare for me to have any contact with them at the point that they hand their babies over to us. Frankly, I would rather not be present for that. There was no great show of emotion from any one of the ladies, just a quiet resignation. Circumstance compels them to relinquish their babies.

Two of the babies were very malnourished. This tiny boy (below) is two months old and weighs 7.5lb. His face is swollen with fluid and his skin is depigmented and peeling: he has Kwashiorkor malnutrition. Young infants (statistically) do not have a good chance of surviving Kwashiorkor, but this one is smiling and feeding well. We couldn't ask for more hopeful signs than those. Still, we will manage Baby P conservatively. His immune system will be very compromised and so we are watching him closely for signs of infection. If we treat him too aggressively, and try to fatten him up too quickly at this stage, he could go into multi-organ falilure.

This baby's emaciated body tells an all too common story of starvation. At 12 months, he is old enough to pine for his Mother. Please pray for him. If he adjusts well to the orphanage, I am sure that he will thrive here. He is in good hands. Loving and experienced nannies, who know that he has lost everything, will do many little things to ease his transition. They will will hold him and rock him the way Haitian Mothers do. They will feed him foods that are likely to be familar this week, even supposing they are not the best foods to recover him from his malnutrition. Allready, this frail little boy is reaching for these ladies and allowing them to feed him strange new foods. I am in awe of them.

And we are seeing double, yet again. A gorgeous set of twin boys have joined us in the NICU. They are just 5 weeks old and are happiest when we place them so close that each can feel the warmth of the other. This is brotherly love!

Blessed Be The Name Of The Lord

2009-07-26T06:34:00.000-07:00

My mind has been drifting up the mountain to Kenscoff all weekend.

Our premature baby died on Friday morning, too small and too weak. We called her Papa to the NICU and he was present when her heart stopped for the second time. We could not start it again, and the decision was out of our hands. As Dixie removed the tubes and expressed her regret, the Papa put his head in his hands and wept. There are few things more devastating that a Father's cries.

.What will be in that Manman's mind, I wonder, when she undoes the sheet, to reveal the body of her tiny infant. Will she groan? Wail? Tear at her clothes? Fall to the ground? Will she rock her and sing? Refuse to believe? Or, will she hold everything back? I can only guess. I can't really know, but, my mind is drifting off to Kenscoff, to a 26 year old lady, who loved this tiny girl so much, that sick and weak though she was after a difficult pregnancy, she sent breast milk to the orphanage every day, because I told her it was the best thing for the baby and that it might help. Now, Manman's breasts will be full of milk. They will be heavy and they will ache. And perhaps Manman will be left with the insubstantial weight of the baby we called Gabriella in her arms, even after the infant has left them. Grief is like that.

These past three months have been tough in the NICU. Not a single week has gone by without a crisis. First Jonathon, then Baby S. A baby with septicaemia; so sick that we almost most her. A 6 month old who developed bloody diarrhoea and stopped breathing. An HIV positive boy with recurrent pneumonia. Now Gabriella. I try to be positive but in all honesty, I am feeling the strain. We are on an emotional roller-coaster here. Most of our babies do not have mothers. We are not just nurses and nannies to these little ones and by the same token, they are so much more than patients or charges to us. We carry an incredible weight of responsibility in our hearts, and it is really hard sometimes.

"Dee Dee", ready to catch a flight to the States with Dixie, early this morning. She was extremely ill last month with septicaemia but is now well enough to travel for surgery to correct her club feet.

Gabriella died at 8:30 in the morning. Within the hour, another infant arrived in a critical condition. She came from another orphanage in our area. This 11 month old baby was relinquished by her birth family two months ago. She has been refusing to eat for sometime. She developed watery diarrhoea and was so dehydrated when she got here that she was going into shock. We started her on an IV and antibiotics, but she is still refusing to eat. Perhaps she is missing her Mum. Perhaps she is not feeling well, but this baby must eat in order for her gut to heal. If she is not eating by tomorrow, I will have to site a feeding tube. Please remember her in your prayers. We do not know her name and so we are calling her "Fifi" for now. When she is better, she will return to the orphanage she came from.

I am so glad that Fifi made it here and that she arrived when she did. She is being lavished with love and attention. She is not the only one who will be healed.

Then Job arose... and he fell to the ground and worshiped. And he said:

“ Naked I came from my mother’s womb,

And naked shall I return there.

The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away;

Blessed be the name of the LORD.” (Job 1:20-22).

What a week!

2009-07-21T18:51:00.000-07:00

What a week....

It began with the very great honour of preparing Baby S for her marathon trip to Indianapolis. She was escorted out of Haiti by a former volunteer, Anna, who spent a month at GLA, getting to grips with the skills she would need to transport this high-care baby from the orphanage to her host family in Indiana.

We estimated that it would be 16 hour trip, door-to-door, but of course, Anna and Baby S were sent on their way with enough feeds, medicines and supplies to accommodate potential delays and all kinds of other eventualities. What if Baby S dropped her temperature? I sent a thermometer, a make-shift cap and a hot water bottle. What if she vomited all her feeds? She would need oral rehydration solution. We packed some. What if she choked and couldn't clear her airway? All we had to offer was a bulb aspirator. What if she had a prolonged seizure? We hoped she wouldn't.

When the time came to wave off our precious girl, I knew I probably would never see her again. There was indescribable relief, joy, and celebration, but also a twinge of grief and anxiety. How Baby S would cope with 3 flights, and the changing altitudes was a great unknown. Regardless, we waved her off with smiles and optimism. After all, Baby S needed hope.

Less than a week later, Baby S has come through her surgery and is showing some promising signs. We are still praying for a miracle of healing and we believe that God will continue to show himself in her life.

Later that day, we re-admitted a recent NICU graduate. This 7 month old boy had bloody diarrhoea and a high fever. He was vomiting and dehydrated. We started an IV and antibiotics. Twenty-four hours later he was shaking violently with fever. By Friday morning, he was in a lot of pain. He began having seizures and he stopped breathing. It took almost two hours of resuscitation to get him breathing again. Amazingly, by the end of the morning, he had stabilized. All of our babies are special, but the ones who cheat death become more precious than any words could tell.

Sunday brought yet more drama. On the way home from church, I took a call on Dixie's Cell-phone. A Tiny baby had arrived at the gate. We were grateful for the heads-up. When we arrived home, we found a 2lb 1 oz girl in the NICU. That is just 900 grammes!

She had been born at 7am that morning. Mum is in her mid-twenties and had been hemorrhaging for the past 8 days. She delivered her baby by herself, at home. As Mum left the orphanage early in the afternoon, one of the nannies, who was observing Manman from the pefect vantage point of the NICU balcony, commented that she looked weak, as though she would faint. Sure enough, as I walked outside, this poor lady's legs gave way from underneath her.

The orphanage Director started an IV on her on the ground outside the baby house, because that is where she fell. She was ably assisted by myself and two of the ladies who work in the kitchen. This is Haiti!

Meanwhile, our newest charge, who was profoundly hypothermic, had been bundled into an incubator and started on oxygen. It was clear from looking at her that she was extremely premature.

Baby Gabriella's skin is very pink, slightly shiny and almpost transluscent. The cartilage in her ears is so soft that her ears fold easily, and do not recoil very well. Based on these, and other signs of her physical maturity, we estimate that this tiny baby has a gestational age of 27 weeks. That makes her almost 3 months premature.

Today, Gabriella is in a stable condition, but we are all very aware that this could change on a moment. The next 10 days will be critical. God, preserve her immature organs and protect her from infection. We are all rooting for her.

Lord, I do not understand your ways.

2009-07-12T15:46:00.000-07:00

Isaiah 55:8-9

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways...

We have been nursing some very sick babies lately. Some of them have been restored to good health. Others are getting there.

This sweet girl is recovering from septicaemia. She remains weak but she is getting stronger every day.

Some are in a state of constant instability.

A Darling boy who has serious, ongoing health issues: he has been sick with pneumonia and he is beginning to retain fluid in his face, arms and abdomen.

And then there is Baby S, whose condition remains critical...

As Baby S's head continues to grow, she is becoming increasingly prone to hypothermia. We are keeping her covered at all times to reduce insensible heat losses. Baby S is vomiting many of her feeds, which are now given entirely by feeding tube, since she is no longer able to swallow. Medicine is not easing her symptoms. The pressure in her head is high and she is pale and gaunt

We have received all the letters we need in order to proceed with the Visa process. Please pray that Haitian Social Services and the US embassy will process her paper work quickly and that Sabrina will arrive safely at Riley hospital in Indiana before the week is out. A series of miracles have brought her this far but there is no time to lose.

As I reflect on the turbulent courses and the soaring heart-highs I have been experiencing over the past two months, I have come to believe that maybe it is for the best that we do not know God's ways. If we did, there would be no reason to believe and no reason to pray. We would give up the fight, and then, it wouldn't be possible to change a thing.

We might stand to lose too much....

Jonathon in May: 2lb 10oz and critically ill........A few weeks ago with nanny Exumene.

Someone Watching Over Them

2009-07-05T19:20:00.000-07:00

This week, God has been very much present in the NICU at GLA.

One baby who developed a high fever last month and became extremely ill with septicaemia and seizures has been recovering slowly. The feeding tube is out but this little one remains weak. She developed a respiratory virus a few days ago. We nurses had all been so incredibly relieved to see signs that she was getting better and it was worrying to see this fragile baby get sick again, at a point when her resistance to infection was still so low.

Thankfully, our precious girl is improving. Her breathing is slower and less laboured and she is no longer coughing and wheezing as much as she has been. Tonight, one of the Haitian staff praised God out loud for this baby's life. The little lady in question has limb deformities that will require surgical correction. In the few months she has been with us, she has made tremendous progress in her motor development, As soon as she is strong enough, she will be going to the USA for the treatment she needs and deserves. Yes, it is certainly down to him that she has overcome so much.

Last week, we received the crushing news that although we had a surgeon who was prepared to perform Baby S's surgery free of charge, his hospital would not provide the care. Had God spoken? We knew that we could not continue to aspirate cerebral spinal fluid from this baby's head indefinitely. We were at a point where we had to decide either to continue searching for a Doctor and a hospital who would agree to treat our baby, or give up and begin providing palliative care. There was one key question in my own mind: what areas of Baby S's brain were active, and could anyone give us an indication of what her future capabilities might be?

Before that question was answered, a third surgeon, practicing in Indiana, heard about Sabrina and he accepted her case, on the spot, without reservation! This absolutely brings us to our knees!

I can not over-emphasise the urgency of getting this baby out of Haiti. Despite aspirating cerebro-spinal fluid every other day, her head is growing by a centimeter a week. There is a huge amount of pressure inside her head. She is unable to feed, she is vomiting and having seizures. She is also having frequent episodes of hypothermia. Please pray that the hospital administrators will be blessed with merciful hearts, and that they will expedite all the necessary paper work so that GLA can proceed with the US visa process. Time really is of the essence.

So many doors have opened for this little one. Surely, someone is watching over her

Baby S: The Angel sleeps. Isn't she pretty!

God's Special Children

2009-06-27T07:55:00.000-07:00

These are busy days at GLA. In the past week and a half, we have admitted 6 children to the main house. All of them have special medical needs:

On Tuesday, we welcomed a malnourished, HIV positive baby. He came to us from another orphanage that did not have the medical expertise to provide appropriate care for him. This smiley little man is around 5 months old and he weighs 9lb 6oz. He had a high fever, diarrhoea, vomiting and thrush when he came to us. He didn't know how to suck from a bottle and his arms and legs were very stiff. We treated him with antibiotics and fed him by NG tube. Today, he is doing much better. His NG tube is out and he is learning to feed all by himself. He is receiving a special hypo-allergenic milk formula and gentle physiotherapy. It is such a blessing to see this baby recover and begin to thrive in the few short days he has been with us. We are so thankful that God directed him here.

Last Friday, we received a set of twin boys. We now have 4 sets of twins at the baby house. Our newest set are 12 months old and they came to us from Jeremy. They were fed mostly on watery maize meal porridge and are in the beginning stages of kwashiorkor: meaning that the lack of protein and nutrients in their diets has stunted their growth and caused their faces to swell with fluid. Both boys had fevers when they arrived. We started them on antibiotics, high calorie milk and fortified peanut butter. Their blood tests show that they are very anaemic. These little men are full of parasites, which, have been sucking life-giving nutrients from their tiny bodies. Less than a week after they were admitted, the boys are all ready gaining weight.

A few months ago, I shared with you that when twins are born, Haitian mother's often favour one twin over the other. Sometimes, this happens because the families are impoverished and just can't support two extra mouths to feed. Voodooists believe that the birth of twins heralds a curse on the family, that the dominant twin will take the life force from the weaker sibling and that with the eventual death of the weaker twin, the curse is broken. Here at GLA our nannies are excited by the arrival of twins, but they believe that the first born twin will always be stronger, healthier and more intelligent. I beg to differ. Both boys are gentle and sweet natured, but although Gwo Marasa (the big twin) is more advanced in his development, it is TI Marasa (the little twin) who protects and nurtures his brother. The boys spent two hours in NICU on their first day. While they were their, I assessed them and developed a treatment plan. Ti Marasa was very watchful. He stoked his big brother's head from time to time and gently shoved any other child who tried to touch him. It was too cute and (so I told the nannies) evidence that both boys have patrticular strengths.

Wednesday of this week brought 3 new arrivals from a rural area near the Dominican border. Two of the children are siblings; a 15 month old girl and a two year old boy. Both children are very malnourished and have problems with their eyes and their vision. We admitted them to our step-down nursery, where they are getting lots of love and encouragement from some very dedicated nannies. The little girl was reluctant to eat over the first few days. She has a cough, a fever and a nasty bacterial infection in her nappy area. Her brother is tiny, swollen with fluid and timid. His malnutrition has caused some dermatitis and he has a cough and diarrhoea. He is eating well and we hope that he will continue to recover. malnourished children are immuno-compromised and our goal is always to build them up as quickly as possible.

The same day, we admitted a 3 year old girl. She was abandoned by her mother as a baby and was living with her grand-father. She has severe burns on her stomach and her right leg. She tells us that she fell into the fire while she was helping her Grand-father with the cooking. A missionary family found her lying under a tree. She was so severely burned that the tendon on her leg was exposed. Her wounds were contaminated with dirt and faeces and infested with maggots. It is difficult to understand how a malnourished child survived with such severe thermal injuries in such unsanitary conditions. Local people begged the missionary family to take this child. If they hadn't she would certainly have died. She lived with them for a few weeks. They did a wonderful job cleaning and dressing the wound, which is almost healed, except for a 5cm by 1cm area on her leg.

We are cleaning and dressing this daily. Mme Bernard, who supervises the nursery staff insists on keeping this little lady in the Intensive Care area until he burn is completely healed. That way, we can minimise the risk of the wound getting infected. It is such a joy having A little girl with us; she is bright, beautiful and talks in complete sentences, in an adorable country-side accent. It is a novelty for us to have such an intenractive at this house and I am sure she will be a little bit spoiled, (and maybe a lot spoiled) here!

My newest baby came yesterday. He is 4lb 10oz, and slightly premature. He is beautiful and healthy and sucks good volumes of formula from a bottle every three hours. He is not showing any signs of infection. Oh that it would stay that way, that he would grow and get strong on loving care and good nutrition alone! Sweet and simple.

Optimism and hope, Realism and Doubt

2009-06-20T17:54:00.000-07:00

I try to be optimistic, because optimism breeds hope. Hope in turn strengthens faith, and with faith anything is possible. At the same time though, I have to be realistic...

Take Baby S: our instincts tell us that there is more to her than her CT scans suggest. When her eyes seem to meet ours, or when she grasps our fingers in her tiny fist, or when she nestles close to us, and we feel the steady rise and fall of her breath, there growing sense of attachment; sweet and simple.

Yet Baby S's situation is neither sweet nor simple. Every Dr who reviews the CT images agrees that she is ancephallic, meaning that she has substantially less brain tissue than she ought to have. We are told that a diagnosis of ancephally usually come with an inability to see hear or feel. While our little lady certainly seems to be deaf, she pays attention to human faces, she cries and flails when she is in pain, and she is soothed by gentle touch.

Yet for every positive sign that her brain is active, there is a worrying sign: there are episodes of hypothermia, she has seizures, and a few weeks ago she stopped sucking. When she started to suck again she stopped swallowing and began wretching, choking and vomiting whenever we fed her orally. Last week, the results of an EEG seemed to be the final factor in determining whether surgery really would make a difference to Baby S's quality of life or whether it would even increase her chances of survival.

The result: she was asleep when her brain activity was measured. When she was asleep, she produced normal "sleep waves."

We have been aspirating cerebro-spinal fluid every other day. Baby S finds this painful and lately, she has become upset when we prepare her for the aspiration. The Head nurse was clear in her her assessment of the wails that Baby S let out when we swabbed her head with an antiseptic solution: She knew what was coming, and that was a sign of intelligence. Pain response is a fairly primitive reflex, but memory and anticipation are something else.

There is no certainty about Baby S's prognosis or about her potential. At this point, many minds are burdened with the knowledge that the decisions they make today, will affect Baby S's tomorrow. Please pray that God will imbue all those who consider Baby S's case, with the knowledge and the wisdom they need to make the decission that is in her best interests. Please also pray that optimism will thrive, and realism will not lead to unfounded doubt, or to despair.

A Sick Baby

2009-06-14T18:54:00.000-07:00

One of our smallest babies in the NICU spiked a fever last weekend. By Monday he was showing signs of pain and respiratory distress. His lungs sounded good but he needed oxygen. We were not sure what was making him sick so we started him on a broad-spectrum antibiotic and gave regular medications to control the pain and fever. Since he didn't want to feed, we put an IV line in and gave him fluids through it.

Over the days that followed, this angel stared up at us from his crib with wide eyes. I need to tell you something and you have to act on it, those eyes seemed to say. We all wished that we could understand.

On Thursday night he became very sick with a high fever and a very fast heart rate. It became apparent that he has a bad case of gastroenteritis that had caused some ulceration in his gut. We gave emergency treatment and called a paediatrician for advice. All the while those huge eyes were boring into us. You are grown-ups. Make it go away!

If only, we grown-up's had that kind of power. We are thankful to be able to give our angel the most appropriate antibiotics for his condition and that we have the anti-acid medications he needs to heal his gut. We can give oxygen, IV's and painkillers to support him but it is going to take time for him to get better. Of course, at just 3 months old, he doesn't understand that.

Our angel is stable and comfortable, but I will feel more confident about his recovery when I see a smile. I think we all will. While we anxiously wait for and try to coax that smile, we pray.

The Highs and the Lows...

2009-06-07T04:51:00.000-07:00

We were at a very nice hospital down town: clean, modern, well-organised and with friendly staff who inspired confidence.

The nurse was having trouble citing an IV on Baby S. She needed one so that they could inject contrast fluid for detailed CT imaging.

Baby S was was flailing and crying as the nurse inserted the needle.
'She is strong!' the nurse remarked in Kreyol.
A Doctor shook his head. 'I just don't understand it - How can a baby with so little brain tissue behave so normally?'
'The radiologist was almost reproachful. 'Do not question the works of God. Do not question his works.'

A short time before, Baby S had been waving her arms and kicking her legs as we prepared her for her scan. The previous day, I had needed help to put a Naso-Gastric feeding tube down because a certain feisty newborn girl kept batting my hand away.

'How much brain tissue do you think she has?'
'About 20%, someone estimated.'
'Well then, maybe she has a good 20%?' I offered.

Everyone who meets Baby S agrees that she is no vegetable, but it is difficult to get specialists in a far-away country to understand that. Ancephalic babies usually do not see, hear or sense pain (so we are told). When Baby S flails and cries, then, when sucking on her hand, or being stroked or held or rocked comforts her, what is that?

Earlier in the week, the surgeon who committed to treat Baby S reviewed previous CT images, and rescinded his offer to provide care for her. Disappointed though we were, we continued to pray that God's will would be done, and we continued to believe that if God wanted Baby S to live, she would live.

As the days passed, though, Baby S's head continued to grow. She was having more and more seizures. She stopped feeding and developed diarrhoea. Hope ebbed and flowed. While people in the USA continued to advocate for our little ladie, her health was becoming ever more precarious.

She needed to have some of that fluid drained from her head, but we couldn't get a Haitian Neuro-surgeon to perform the procedure. On Monday 'we' contemplated doing it ourselves, under the guidance of an expert from North America. Maybe we could set up a video link we joked.

By Thursday, Baby S had a head circumference of 57cm (it had been 54.5cm less than 2 weeks before) and there we were, performing the procedure in a Haitian orphanage in the mountains; a procedure that would usually take place in a high-tech operating theater.

The aspiration was successful. An hour later, Dixie Bickel received a message: a well respected neuro-surgeon in Indianapolis has reviewed the CT scan images, and had accepted Baby S for surgery. Provided his hospital will provide the supportive, he will operate as soon as we can get Baby S to Indianapolis!

We have her on antibiotics to prevent her from developing an infection before she gets her surgery. She is also on regular pain relievers. We want to keep her comfortable. Please pray for her while she waits for treatment and please pray for us all as we continue through the highs and lows of loving and caring for Baby S.

He Came Through Again

2009-06-01T20:56:00.000-07:00

We got the results of 'Baby S's' CT scan on Friday night. They were disappointing. We were advised that it was highly unlikely that any neuro-surgeon in the developed world would agree to operate on an infant with Baby S's diagnosis, which was hydro-ancephaly, meaning that she is hydrocephalic but that under all that fluid, there isn't much brain tissue. Discouragement entered my heart....for a moment.

Discouragement though, was quickly upstaged by hope. So many people have been praying for this sweet girl; that God would enter into her life and take authority, that his will would be done and any obstacles in her path would be swept aside. I didn't doubt that if God wanted Baby S to have surgery, it would happen, however bleak things looked.

This morning, all the nurses on site, Haitian, Scottish and American agreed that that Baby S did not behave like an infant with ancephaly. She seems quite alert. She likes to be held and rocked, and she likes to be touched and sang to.

Early in the afternoon, Dixie received a call from the USA. A neuro-surgeon in California had accepted Baby S, a host family had been identified and two ladies were ready and waiting for the call to come to Haiti and escort her to the states.

If you have been praying for our little lady, please don't stop now. Her head circumference went up today, so I am acutely aware that we desperately need the US and Haitian authorities to expedite the paperwork that will be needed to get Sabrina to California.

We are so grateful for the people in the USA who have worked hard to secure care for this vulnerable baby. We are grateful to the God who works through them and through us. And we are encouraged by so many 'small things'. Baby is feeding better than she did at first and her seizures are under control. I thought she might be having a seizure today when I saw her smacking her lips. Then, she brought her hand up to her mouth and began sucking it and fussing. baby S was hungry and she was letting us know about it. Such a normal behaviour, such a relief to witness it.

2009-05-29T18:32:00.000-07:00

Over the past 3 weeks I have had no less than 12 migraine headaches. On Tuesday I finally decided to pray about it. That very day, the cycle broke. I am so glad; it is not easy to function with blinding pain, nausea and dizziness - try functioning and being pleasant when you are feeling that way. I'm sorry to say, I didn't always manage.

There are constant reminders that God is still here, and still answering our prayers. Every morning, I ask him to give me everything I need to minister to these babies. He is doing just that. A few days ago when I was checking one of my fragile toddlers, I noticed he had a slight heart murmur. I asked a visiting Doctor to check it out. She confirmed that the child had a murmur but said it was very faint. Although the murmur might have been missed, I am very grateful that God gave me ears to hear it. In this little boys case, the most likely cause of his heart murmur is severe anaemia. His immune system is compromised by HIV infection andanaemia might have made him more susceptible to infection than he all ready is.

In the NICU, our miracle baby continues to grow and thrive. Jonathon is up to 4lb 5oz now. He is out of his incubator and off of his caffeine; apnoeas and bradycardia's are a thing off the past for this beautiful boy. Hallelujah!

Our little man had his first bath on Monday. His Mum was sure he would protest. We submerged his body in warm water, let him touch the end of the bath tub with his feet and moved him gently back and forth. To Mum's surprise, Jonathon was very content. We told her that all the time he was growing inside her, he had floated in warm fluid. He felt secure now because he was experiencing sensations that were comforting and familiar. It is such a blessing to experience precious moments like this; to be able to teach his Mummy about her preemie son's inner world, and about the things she can do to make him feel safe and loved, when, a few short weeks ago, we didn't think he would live.

Mum spends 8-9 hours a day in the nursery, caring for her baby. Jonathon is probably around 36 weeks old (measured from the time he was conceived) and so we are working on establishing breast-feeding. There really is no practical alternative to breast-feeding for this Mum and this baby once they go home. Jonathon is doing very well sucking at the breast and although his Mum is anxious about her milk supply, we can reassure her with absolute certainty that she is making plenty of milk. She is able to express 6oz at a time and Jonathon sucks around 2oz at each feed!

'Baby S' is in a stable condition, but she is still in need of urgent medical attention. Her head circumference has increased by a centimeter since we admitted her a week ago and the increased pressure in her brain caused several seizures on Monday and Tuesday, as well as an irregular heart rate. 'Baby S' is on anti-convulsant medications now. She isn't feeding well, but she is taking enough milk to stay hydrated.

It looks very likely that a surgeon in the States will agree to treat our angel. Our Haitian Paediatrician has offered to write letters in support of expediting the processes of obtaining a passport and visa for Baby S. God make this child's path straight and remove any obstacles that stand between her and your will for her life.

Blessed Assurance

2009-05-24T10:16:00.000-07:00

At 4pm on Friday, Dixie Bickel admitted a 2 day old infant to the NICU. The baby was born by Ceasarean section on Wednesday evening and she has severe hydrocephalus. Her head measures 54.5cm at the widest point.

The average newborn baby has a head circumference of 35cm. Thankfully, infants have soft skulls and the bones are not fused. Our little lady has so much fluid around her brain that the sutures have been pushed wide apart. This limits the amount of pressure in our baby's head. An adult in a similar situation would die.

Without prompt treatment, though, our baby might be permanently brain damaged. She might not even live. She needs surgery to drain the fluid and prevent it from building up again. Unless there is a neurosurgeon who can do this in Haiti, and we do not believe that there is, Dixie will have to arrange to get our baby out of Haiti on a medical visa. While it is likely that GLA will be able to find a surgeon and hospital in the states where "Baby S" can be treated free of charge, it may take several weeks to obtain the visa. Baby S does not have several weeks.

This though, is not a time to despair. Shortly after Baby S arrived in the NICU, I cleaned her off; she had not been bathed since she was born 2 days earlier. As I was bathing her, there was a nudging in my spirit. Baby S had not come here for dignified care alone. As much as God wanted that for her, he had other things in mind. He sent her to GLA because he wanted her to live. And he knows that the faithful people of GLA, will pray his precious child back to good health; they have done it before.

The baby's family believe that their daughter was was born with hydrocephalus because of a curse on their lives. In Haitian culture, "cursed infants" are tossed out onto rubbish heaps, or dropped down pit latrines.

Baby S sisters, though, just could not allow that to happen. They had mercy on her. I believe the holy spirit moved them to bring her here and I am thankful that they yielded to that spirit, and no other.

Medically, Baby S's situation is urgent. I have never known a baby to be born with so much fluid on the brain. All ready, her limbs are stiff and her eyes are deviated downwards because of the pressure on her brain. She is having difficulty feeding. We need a miracle.

So please bombard the gates of Heaven on Baby S behalf and when you pray, pray in the knowledge that God wants to heal her. Petition him to give us his wisdom as we stand in the gap for this Angel.

While we wait for our miracle, and wonder how God will bring it to fruition, baby S is being loved and cared for the best way we know how. In the past 24 hours, I have watched Miss Esther hold Baby S on a pillow to splint the baby's head and protect her neck from the weight of that bulging head. I have seen Miss Cami, late at night, patiently feeding Baby S, time consuming and laborious though it may be.

I see these things and I know that the love of God is here, moving in this place.

A Fish Baby and People Who Fly by Night

2009-05-22T20:37:00.000-07:00

Update: The whole of Haiti is talking about the Fish Baby. Two Radio Stations have reported the story. The only print version I have been able to source is in French.

A fellow blogger managed to get a photo of the 'fish'. See it for yourself and make up your own mind.
http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_odmqV0Vu1TU/ShVSsmkSTHI/AAAAAAAAB1k/Pd57rVdHPXI/s1600-h/Fish+Baby+Photo.jpg

It was almost 5pm. I was burping a baby, and I was not concentrating on the nannies Kreyol banter. When they decided to draw me in, I was was two steps behind.

'Susan', Ginette began. There was mischief in her eyes.
'Yes Cherie?'
'Do you have Lougawou in Scotland?'
'Louga what?'
And I thought she answered, 'People who throw at night.' The Haitians around me erupted in laughter. I didn't understand the joke.

It turns out that in Haiti, there are people with supernatural abilities. These people are called Lougawou and they fly, but only at night. The nannies are not sure whether they practice witchcraft but they certainly are not afraid of these people. Oh, no. Apparently, the Lougawou are afraid of Christians. And no, Miss Susan, Lougawou are not the stuff off stories, they are real.

'Well ladies, I have never come across a Lougawou in Scotland or anywhere else. First you tell me that a woman gave birth to a fish last night, and now this!

'Oh Susan, you are so funny!"

'Me? Did I give birth to the fish?' The ladies were beside themselves when I said this. Tears were streaming down their faces and they were holding their sides absolutely convulsing with laughter. I just do not think I'm that funny.

It was on the radio between 7am and 8am, apparently. A Woman in Okays gave birth to a fish.
'Are you kidding me'
'No.'
Are they kidding you.'
'Susan, my Haitian colleague replied tolerantly, 'they do not play around when they tell the news on the radio.' After all, I am a "Blan" and there are are things, she knows, I just can't be expected to understand. Even some very basic truths.

Did they think it was a baby whose leg weren't separated?
No, it was a fish, they said so on the radio.
So what did they do? Put the fish in the sea.
No they did not.
So the fish died then?
No, it is in the hospital. That's what they said on the radio.

I love Haitians so much!

Bondye Kapab!

2009-05-14T18:54:00.000-07:00

Today, baby Jonathon celebrated a great achievement. Against seemingly impossible odds, he has survived 28 days in this world.

Jonathon's was born around 10 weeks early. He too weak to suck and too small to keep himself warm. Unfortunately, dehydration and hypothermia were not his only problems ; as is often the case with premature babies, his brain was so immature that it could not regulate his breathing or his heart rate. Jonathan kept forgetting to breath and that was getting him into trouble.

To help out with this, we started him on caffeine a week ago. Caffeine (the very same caffeine that is in your morning cup off tea or coffee) is used in Neonatal Intensive are units all over the world. It stimulates babies brains to keep them breathing. Our little man quickly stabilized after we started receiving this medicine. His heart rate no longer drops and he has not had an apnoea for several days.

Jonathon weighs 3lb 3 oz and he came off of his oxygen yesterday. He is taking an ounce of Mum's milk or high calorie formula every three hours and he is sucking most of his feeds. Not only that but he actually wakes 2 hours and 55 minutes after his last feed, crying and flailing his arms and demanding a bottle! For a boy that isn't supposed to have been born for 6 weeks, that is really some thing!

His poor Mummy thought she had lost him when she saw us resucitating him last week. When we called later that afternoon with the happy news that we needed breast milk for her hungry boy, she told us we were trying to trick her. She 'knew' he was gone, she said. He wasn't breathing and he was very, very dark when she had seen him him. An exasperated Mme Bernard replied that Jonathon was very much alive and that he was crying for milk!

Two days later, it was obvious to the nurses and nannies that 'Mama Bebe' was distant from her infant son. Who could blame her? She had lost his twin and she had almost lost Jonathon twice. We had a very frank conversation with this lady. I acknowledged that she was frightened, but I told her that her that to have the best chance of growing strong and healthy, this tiny baby needed his Mummy's touch, to smell her scent and hear her voice.

Today, Mama Bebe loves holding Jonathon 'skin-to skin' on her chest. This is good way of promoting bonding between Mums and babies and it helps preemies regulate their vital signs and makes them feel secure. We undress Jonathon and place him under Mum's shirt. He is naked except for a nappy and a little cap. We cover Mum's chest with a blanket to make sure he stays warm. Jonathon is always contented when he is skin-to-skin with Mum and there is nothing sweeter than seeing them together this way.

Mum looked up at me anxiously when she was holding him today. 'Is he getting better?'
'Oh, yes, I told her. He gets a little better everyday.'
She smiled and shook her head. 'He was gone, that day.'
'I thought so too,' I confided.
She laughed. 'Bondye Kapab!' (with God, anything is possible).

The Power of Prayer

2009-05-07T16:24:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday night our premature baby developed an irregular heart beat and became very sick. I prayed with a passion I have never prayed with before. I told God that we all needed a miracle here and I believed he would give us one.

Dixie was in constant e-mail contact with a Neonatal Nurse Practitioner in the USA until after mid-night. Although she did everything she could to get Jonathon stable he was not doing well. All through the night, the Haitian nurses stimulated him to keep his heart rate up. By the morning, he was having Apnoeas and Bradycardia's (meaning that his heart rate was dropping and he would stop breathing for short periods.

Prayer requests were sent out to adoptive parents and GLA supporters all over the world but at 8:30, our tiny boy was exhausted. He stopped breathing and didn't start again.

For the next hour and a half, we used an ambu-bag to breath for him and gave drugs to stimulate his heart but at 10am, it had all but stopped beating. We stopped the resuscitation, feeling so incredibly despondent; God had taken another premature boy home on Christmas Day. I wanted this one.

The next prayer that went up was in desperation, and dare I say, anger. I knew God could heal Jonathon, I knew he had willed him to be born strong and healthy and I knew it was a miracle that our tiny boy had survived 2 weeks at home without any medial support and without being fed! So what was this?

And then, Dixie was there with a syringe in her hand. An asthma medication, she told me, that might stimulate the baby to breath. We started working on him again. No-one had any peace. No-one wanted to give up on Jonathon.

We got a heart beat. We gave the medicine. And seconds later, in the pause between the breaths I was giving, I saw the baby's chest rise. I stopped ventilating him. His chest rose and fell again and again. 'Ladies,' I almost whispered 'He's breathing himself.

And then he moved, and wonder of wonder, opened his eyes and looked at us. He put his hand over his eyes, settled into a regular heart rhythm and fell asleep.

Beyond recounting what happened, I am speechless. When I asked Mme Bernard if she thought God had given me my miracle, she beamed and told me, yes, she thought he had. And everyone agrees. Our God is good and he is faithful and he hears our prayers.

Joyful Beyond the Word

2009-05-04T03:25:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, I met a baby at the gate. Dixie Bickel, our orphanage director assessed him moments later.

The baby weighed 2lb 10 oz. He was scrawny and dehydrated to the point that his life was slipping away.

He had been one of a twin, born two weeks earlier, just a few miles from our gate. Mum explained that she had taken the babies to a Doctor, and that she had been told that since the boys were sucking at the breast, they would be OK.

She estimates that the twins were two months premature. Of course, babies born that early are not strong enough to suck at the breast. Jonathon's twin had died earlier that morning.

Jonathan was so cold that his temperature would not register on the thermometer and as we worked on him, we had to be honest with ourselves and with his Mummy; the baby's body was shutting down. He was suspended between this world and the next by a thread and although we were doing all we could, we couldn't promise that he would live.

Jonathan received oxygen and warmed IV fluids and he was placed in an incubator. Over the next three hours, his heart rate persistently dipped below normal limits , and for the next three hours, Miss Esther and I had to stimulate him constantly to keep that tiny heart pumping.

Although his vital signs stabalized, we had a very hard time getting the babies temperature up that afternoon and I continued to guard my heart.

Later that night Jonathan got upset after a heel prick, and sucked vigorously on my finger to calm himself, I offered him a very small feed, which he took gladly.

The next morning, our little man was alert and taking regular feeds. Almost 24 hours had passed since he arrived at our door, and I finally let hope into my heart.

'This baby wants to live,' I told the nannies. I think I will take his picture now.' They laughed, and asked why I hadn't taken his picture the day before. My Kreyol failed me; I didn't know how to tell them I thought it was undignified to photograph a dying child. I just told them I didn't want to take his picture until I felt confident he might live.

'Mme John (Dixie) told us that if he lived one day, he might live all the days of his life,' they said, looking at me expectantly.
'Yes, I told them, he might live to be a very old man!' And there was more laughter, joyful and pilling from the heart.

If I tell you this baby is infinitely precious to us, I'm sure you will understand, and, maybe if I tell you we are delighted when he looks our way, or that we go a bit ga ga every time he does does something cute - a sneeze for instance - you'll understand that too.

There are no words to express what is in our hearts; joy just doesn't come close. For my part, I can only say that in a situation in which guarding my heart meant restraining hope, I am awestruck, and so very thankful to be witness to this miracle of survival. All thanks and praises must go to God, through whom all things are possible!

I can't upload a photograph of our new baby; I have a new camera and I haven't installed its CD ROM on my computer. Unfortunately, the CD ROM is in Scotland (whoops!)

Ayiti Mwen

2009-04-29T03:38:00.000-07:00

When I got to JKF airport yesterday, I was suddenly overpowered with anxiety. Maybe I did need a visa to get into Haiti after all. Maybe the Haitians would send me back to New York. Oh how awful it would be to get so close, and not reach my destination!

Although Christians are supposed to be able to give their fears over to God, and trust him to take care of things, and although God has consistently shown himself to be faithful to me, I couldn't shake off the worry. I sent up an apology and a plea that my calm would be restored.

I got more than that; as the aircraft began its decent and I caught sight of the rippling, chiseled mountain landscape, I was filled with excitement, and all doubts melted away.

When we touched down, the Haitians cheered. I knew they would, and it was special and wonderful to celebrate my homecoming with them.

A hot wind swept over me as I left the aircraft. And as the crumbling colour and throngs of people and rickety vehicles and garbage of Port-au-prince spilled out onto the streets around us, I fell in Love, once again with the uncontained, honest broken beauty and chaos of my Haiti.

New York, New York

2009-04-27T14:01:00.000-07:00

Well, I made it to my New York hotel room 2 hours ago. Getting here proved to be a real mission.

Just minutes after I checked in at Edinburgh Airport this morning, there was tannoy announcement asking that I to report to the airline's security desk. When I got there, I was told quite categorically that I would not be allowed to fly because I did not have visas to enter either the US or Haiti!

They (security personnel) smiled and told me that while their computer system had told them I was eligible to travel to both countries, they'd had 'nagging doubts' and had done some further investigations. They were adamant, based on (their misinterpretation of) the information they had turned up, that US immigration would not admit me on their visa waiver programme because my return journey (through the US) is more than 90 days away.

I knew that the US and Haiti absolutely would let me in, but the security staff wouldn't hear me. After all this preparation and a few tears, here I was ready to go, and now I was faced with the very real possibility that I might not get to Haiti this week, and maybe not for several weeks. I had quite the battle on my hands. My mind and heart were racing and it took everything I had in me; all my calm assertiveness and persistence, all my intelligence, persuasion, intuition and a sincere prayer to get a breakthrough

Finally, after several calls to US and Haitian embassies I was allowed to board. The head security lady commented that the Haitian Embassy were 'useless' and 'couldn't understand what the problem was.' Uumm, maybe because there wasn't a problem? She was 'not happy' because she should not have had to 'do all of this.' Thankfully, the words that expanded in my mouth at that point, popped before they left my lips and I found it in myself to deliver grace instead of sarcasm.

There were further delays when my carry-on went through the scanner, but I made it to the gate just in time. I am so thankful for that seemingly unexplainable urge to get to the airport early today.

The journey itself was quite rough, but I'm not complaining. I am happy to have made it here, and i'll be happier still, God willing, when I land in Haiti tomorrow.

Emma: I received your message. If you are interested in volunteering at GLA, please contact Jean Bell at the US office. She deals with with all initial inquiries about the volunteer programme and she will probably refer you to someone in Haiti who can answer specific questions about how your skills could be used at the orphanage.

A Personal Word

2009-04-15T01:05:00.000-07:00

Five years ago, I was in a difficult place. I had lived under attack for 3 months solid. I had been faithful to my promise, and kept my eyes on God, but all my strenght was spent and I wanted out!

I said, 'God, if you want me here, you are going to have to keep me here,' and although I asked him to show me a sign, I was filled with dread at the thought that his will might be for me to remain where I was.

I had planned to fly out of the nearest city with a budget airline, but so desperate was my desire to go home that I booked myself a ticket with a more reliable carrier!

I flew out of Durban, only to find that my onward flight to the UK was delayed. Everything in me rebelled against what that might mean. If this is your doing, Lord, you are too late! I'm on my way home now!

Six weeks ago when I left GLA, there had been no such attack. I was full of sorrow to be leaving, but I wasn't feeling well, I was tired, I missed home and I wasn't a hundred percent sure where God wanted me.

In the yard, bags in the car, I said my goodbyes, trying to ignore the whining of the vehicle that was supposed to get me to Port-au-Prince.

GLA's drivers tried everything they could to get the truck started, but it was to no avail. I was remembering that talk between God and I five years ago. This time, the tone was entirely different. As people around me joked that God obviously had a hand in this, I retorted playfully that God wasn't necessarily the cause; some of them had been threatening sabotage for a few weeks. I told God I would be back if that's what he wanted, but would he please give me some time in Scotland.

I made it to the airport in the toddler house vehicle, and reached the gate just as my flight started boarding.

That next day, I learned that the first truck started after I left GLA. You can't say I was too late with the message this time, God seemed to be saying!