Connecting with Haitian moms


There is a unique phenomenon that I am trying to navigate with the Haitian moms in this setting. I will try to describe it to you.

If I had to guess, I would say that 1/4 to 1/3 of the women we are supporting are Haitian. At this public hospital, we are working with young doctors who either speak Spanish as a first language or as second language. Most of those who speak Spanish natively are Dominican and most who speak as a second language are Haitian. On any shift I have worked there may be two or three Haitian doctors. However, only the Dominican  doctors attempt to communicate with the Haitian mothers.

I know… Crazy, right? A Haitian doctor can be standing there hearing the mom speak in Kreole and not engage… or only engage en Español.

Navigating this medical environment en Español is a great challenge in itself. Making sure that I interact respectfully with the doctors is a priority. Some are very accommodating of our presence and invite us to participate in various aspects of the birth process and accept simple assistance with things when they find it makes their jobs easier. Others are more skeptical, so I am mindful about how I engage them.

Sometimes as I struggle to communicate with the doctors, a Haitian mom will begin to speak to me in Kreole.

May I take a moment to say how amazingly beautiful Kreole is? When they speak, it sounds like music and like honey rolling off of their tongues… Simply beautiful.

In those chaotic moments, when I have just realized that I did not understand what the doctor needed when they requested the lamp be turned on… or that someone bring a wheelchair… or understand what the doctor is saying after I ask what I am to be feeling for on the mom’s abdomen when I massage a mom’s belly to check for bleeding… or whatever else they say that is spoken so quickly that I am struggling to understand… I can get really caught up.

Often the Haitian mom we are attending to will begin to speak directly to me. In those moments, the only words I can muster are words in the language I have been trying to convey to the attending doctors: “Hablo Ingles… Hablo poquito Español… Repetes despacio, por favor…”

Before you think it is cruel of me to respond en Español, I must also make you aware that at least half of the Haitian moms I have encountered speak some amount of Spanish. So their effort to speak to me in Kreole is intentional and an effort to try to say something they did not want to share broadly with others.

When the Haitian mom’s begin to speak in their native tongue, I am hard pressed to find ANY of my Kreole… AT ALL… But the next thing they do is what hurts my heart the most. Most of them, after I respond in the only thing I can conjure up (which would be Español), divert their gaze from me and refuse to engage me again. It almost feels they sense a betrayal and now place me in the same category with those doctors who refuse to speak with them in their language in front of Dominicans.

ED07E891-B6B2-420B-926C-4312C8C5281F-4645-00000BAD006FD056Hold on…

I had to pause to make sure I downloaded Haitian Creole in my Google Translate App for work tonight. I realized it wasn’t downloaded properly last night while I was looking for a lifeline to the Haitian moms… and then I realized that it doesn’t provide pronunciation, so I hope I am able to remember some previous lessons about the Kreole alphabet.

I can tell you in another post about ways I am finding success with communicating with the Haitian moms. In this post, I just wanted to share this current challenge I am trying to figure out how to overcome over the next few days.

And please know that I do have a theory about why I am noticing this social cultural context in the hospital. I could be wrong, but it feels familiar. I notice a certain social context with the Haitian doctors as well that looks familiar. It’s not a complaint, just an observation. It could be for a myriad of reasons but I have my theory.

Perhaps I will share those thoughts in another post. I am headed to work now.

Send a sister some positive energy!🤰🏿🙌🏿🙏🏿👶🏾🤰🏾

 

TWO MORE SLEEPS!


When my guys were little, they did not understand the concept of measuring days before something would happen. They wanted to know, “How many more SLEEPS, Mommy?” They usually asked as I was tucking them in at night. “Is this the last sleep, Mommy?” It made so much sense to them.

I had not thought about that much until this morning.

SERIOUSLY… I woke up and saw Gene getting ready for work and the first words out of my mouth were, “Oh no… I only have ONE MORE SLEEP!” It turns out, I was wrong… I quickly realized that I have TWO MORE DAYS… I mean TWO MORE SLEEPS!

I am SOOOO EXCITED about this opportunity to serve the women of Hispaniola, but I am also making the most of these last couple of days I have with ♥ my husband ♥ … I am REALLY enjoying my time with him while my sons are with their Summer Mommas (my older and younger sisters) in Alabama. I am also enjoying the time to myself… This time is GOLDEN.

I do not know really know what to expect when I travel to the Dominican Republic on Thursday, but I know I will have a life altering experience…
I know I will have an opportunity to assist Dominican and Haitian moms in labor…
I know I will need to employ some of my high school Spanish to navigate my environment…
I also know I will learn some things about myself and others I don’t anticipate learning…
I am confident I will expand as a human being…
And I have a surety that I will return different than the way I have left…

So TWO MORE SLEEPS

If you have been meaning to make a financial donation to the birth work I will be doing in the Dominican Republic and haven’t gotten a chance, you can still donate so here –> http://www.drdoula.com/dr2017-donation1.html

 

Dr. Doula

Highlights from the Midwifery Skills Workshop in Gauteng, South Africa


“Thank goodness there are some Black women here!” Those were the first words I heard Marianne Littlejohn say as Zee and I found seats. We all giggled at the remark. I told them I am accustomed to being one of the few or the only Black person at birth workshops and conferences I attend in the U.S. and asked if they usually have more Black women in attendance? Several of the women replied: No… It is the same way here… There are mainly white women at these workshops.

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Zee had told me that the situation in South Africa was similar to that the U.S. where few Black women were involved in birth work, but I didn’t believe her. She said that even among African midwives there were cultural changes that did not allow African women to benefit from more recent practices that promote gentle birth. How is it possible in a place where 80% of the population is Black African?

It is shameful that Black midwives have played such a prominent and sustaining role in childbirth historically (only 50-60 years ago) yet they are almost non-existent in the 21st century. It is sad that for many Black women, should they desire to birth with someone who looks like them, that option would not be available. How does that happen in only half a century?

I have always believed that in a different life… Under different circumstances and in simpler times, I would have been a midwife. When my children were younger, I considered disregarding my B.S. in Mathematics and my Masters in Education and beginning my education all over again to become a midwife. At a cellular level, I know that I have been called and purposed to connect with women and girls in this way.

In my real life current situation, however, I know the bureaucracy that surrounds birth and that is not for me. Birth is considered a medical emergency by many. Women are treated as if they have an illness for which the only cure is the birth of the baby. So women may be rushed and their births medicalized to the point where many women no longer believe they can experience childbirth as more than a passive observer. While infant and maternal mortality rates have definitely decreased over the past 100 years with the medical advancements, one would be hard pressed to find a balanced and holistic approach to childbirth in many areas of broader society.

I was grateful to be in attendance at Marianne’s workshop with the other midwives and doulas. Resolving a shoulder dystocia is primarily the responsibility of the medical professional tending to the mother, still I am grateful for the additional knowledge that will allow me to be a better support for mothers. I was appreciative of the opportunity to learn with other individuals who are persevering beyond the obstacles to help women birth in hospitals, in birth centers and (if they choose) in their own homes.

Here are some highlights from the workshop: