Giving birth in Haiti camp – Aid worker’s diary

Guest Blog from Haiti Fiona Perry works as a health advisor for World Vision On hearing the rain in the morning, I hoped it was someone showering in the next room, but Port-au-Prince had been soaked through. Whenever I do assessments in my line of work I always say it’s important to use all your senses – eyes, ears and smell especially. So I lay in bed visualising what the temporary camps would be like this morning. Not only do have families need to put up with the cramped conditions of living in a tiny 6ft by 6ft square space, covered with sheets, blankets or sometimes some plastic sheeting held up by makeshift poles, they now have to battle the rain. Health needs I have been in Haiti for a month, helping to address the health, hygiene and nutrition needs of people affected by the January earthquake. World Vision is working in eight camps in the capital, all filled with thousands of people whose homes were destroyed and who have nowhere else to go. A few days ago, I had an experience that helped me to remember why I am here. On a camp visit, I walked through the labyrinth of narrow pathways around a piece of land perhaps the size of a tennis court, which is home to around 200 families. Here, World Vision has provided people with heavy-duty plastic sheeting, mosquito nets and cooking sets. It was good to see that each house had a plastic sheet and most have made every effort to make their hut a home. An entrepreneur had established a kiosk selling fruit, condensed milk, sugar and spices. A few of the children were having their afternoon wash. Birth I was called over to a hut where a woman was lying on a plastic sheet on the ground, having given birth to a baby boy only minutes before. New to the camp, she had very little in her home made from four sticks and some bed sheets. A nurse who happened to be in the camp had helped to deliver the baby but had run out of equipment. She needed some more gloves and was out of plastic sheets. There was no sign of any of the comforts that we in the West take for granted – a soft mattress, a pillow, some soothing background music or someone to hold your hand. This mother was enduring a complicated birth. Delivery pack The week before, I had been at the same camp distributing clean delivery packs to pregnant mothers, so I asked the camp leader to get a pack from one of the mothers. Rather than demonstrating, as I usually do, I took out the clean gloves, plastic sheet and piece of material from the emergency kit and helped the nurse with the mother’s prolapsed uterus. We both agreed she needed to go to hospital. Her new baby was wrapped in a towel and we helped her to walk to the car. At the busy city hospital, a doctor examined her before telling us he had nowhere to live. I am constantly shocked at how everyone has been affected by this disaster. When I went home that evening and felt tempted to complain about the lack of electricity, or that I have to eat the same food every day (rice and beans mostly), that there is no light in the bathroom or that I have to have a cold shower every morning, I stopped myself. One day with those affected by the earthquake and my struggles seemed very small indeed.