Will you let me be your servant

Yesterday morning before us six students went to a country side school full of 500 students. We spent the morning teaching five year old children how to wash their hands, colors in English, and animal names in English. We had three wonderful interpreters to help us communicate to the clueless stares we received. After our “teaching lessons” we played soccer and jump rope with a chaos of children for an hour. It was interesting to see a functioning school in Haiti, they do a lot of rote repetition.

After two hours of recovering from the school and eating the big afternoon lunch Ann, Lydia and I went to the hospital here in Hinche. I had an idea of what I was going to experience there – very small rooms with splattered walls. No one in our  group yet had experienced a birth yet and I was really hoping for one. As we entered the court yard and approached the labor and delivery unit our ears perked up to sounds of howling screams. Our interpreter turned to Ann and said “I guess we’re in business”! Walking into the tiny labor and delivery unit the source of the howling was seen in one of the four small rooms on a beat up and stained table. The rooms in this unit only have battered curtains as doors and privacy is not a thing, meaning anyone walks in without a thought and normally doesn’t close it on their way out.

With a slight nudge from Ann, Lydia and I within minutes were on both sides of the young woman ready for the long home stretch of this marathon. And within seconds this beautiful Haitian woman accepted our bodies, hands, massages, and belly rubbing. A common theme has been popping up in our blog posts, love and care can transcend any language barrier. After a contraction, Lydia was wrapped up in the laboring woman’s arms she began to hum Come Thou Fount. She stopped for a brief second and was immediately hugged firmer as a sign to keep singing. Another hymn, which has always been my favorite, came to mind Will you let me be you Servant. Will you let me be your servant, let me be as Christ to you. So we sang, hummed, rubbed, and said words of encouragement in creole such a tré byen (very good) bon travay (good job) and ou ka fel (you can do it), until the time came for pouse (push)! Lydia and I locked eyes in amazement and disbelief when holding the woman’s legs as Ann was allowed to catch the baby. She did a rockstar job of directing the two clueless and amazed nursing students and helping the gorgeous baby girl out safely. It was truly an empowering and awe inspiring moment of women’s strength (I almost was pushed over holding the woman’s legs during delivery). The mother shouted out in praises and songs once her daughter was out and we were rushing to complete the delivery and clean up. I helped hold the newborn as Lydia cut the umbilical cord. After the chaos the mother thanked us in creole for being so patient with her. As Lydia stated in the previous blog post, we were her person for that life changing moment. People she wouldn’t have had otherwise.

We went to see her in postpartum. She was well and glowing with her new baby girl.

– Martha