My final days in Haiti are drawing near, and i'm feeling saddenned, relieved, exhausted, and excited all at once. Sad to leave so soon, when my body is finally adjusting to the heat and humidity, my mind is adjusting to the work and the languages, and my heart is falling in love with the country and it's people. I'm relieved mostly bccause I miss the comforts of home, and can't wait to see my husband again. And I'm exhausted. Last night I fell into my bed at 8pm and didn't stir again until this morning. I'm excited too- the work being done here has been smoothened out by our team, to the point where consistency and continuity of care will (hopefully) be achieved. For all you medical people, this is much harder said than done in a place where a new team arrives every week or two, completely replacing earlier staff. It has been extremely frustrating at times, but our team, after arriving from leogane, set to work to achieve this. And I think we have succeeded.
Yesterday I watched and assisted with a new birth, and then watched the tears being sewn up. In the other gyne section a woman who was 20 weeks had gone into labour and I watched the tiny, imperfect being lose it's short life. It was such a duality, and we talked about the sadness of death a few feet away. Natures way of saying "this is a bad time to be born". Indeed it is, but it's still hard for mum. At the time in my life when I am wanting to start having children, I was strongly reminded of the emotional and physical challenge it will be.
Despite this, I'm in love with the children here. They smile, laugh, and cry with such intensity that they melt your heart. We have seen so many children here, and having no pediatric experience whatsoever, I'm scared of nursing every single one of them. But
I'm learning. I'm getting better. I've learned so much from the rest of the team here. Every day I'm learning, and it makes me want to go home and learn more. Being here is the reason I went into nursing, being able to provide direct, meaningful care, to a population that needs it. And I see it every day, and I deliver it every day. And my heart still aches for Haiti.
Yesterday I watched and assisted with a new birth, and then watched the tears being sewn up. In the other gyne section a woman who was 20 weeks had gone into labour and I watched the tiny, imperfect being lose it's short life. It was such a duality, and we talked about the sadness of death a few feet away. Natures way of saying "this is a bad time to be born". Indeed it is, but it's still hard for mum. At the time in my life when I am wanting to start having children, I was strongly reminded of the emotional and physical challenge it will be.
Despite this, I'm in love with the children here. They smile, laugh, and cry with such intensity that they melt your heart. We have seen so many children here, and having no pediatric experience whatsoever, I'm scared of nursing every single one of them. But
I'm learning. I'm getting better. I've learned so much from the rest of the team here. Every day I'm learning, and it makes me want to go home and learn more. Being here is the reason I went into nursing, being able to provide direct, meaningful care, to a population that needs it. And I see it every day, and I deliver it every day. And my heart still aches for Haiti.
New mama in love
New papa in love
Love love love
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