Baby G

I’ve cried a lot over the last 18 months in Haiti, but I’m pretty sure that Tuesday was the first day I cried at work. It was just a tear or two and the only witness was a 12-month old baby girl - Baby G. From the moment we met Baby G and her mother 6 months ago our team knew that they would be very special to us. Baby G’s mother is extremely poor and has some obvious degree of mental impairment. She is the one mother in our program who frequently comes in with her clothes dirty, smelling like urine and with patches of sores on her arms and legs. She is tiny - with wide eyes and small face that looks both younger and much older than 23, her reported age. She already has 3 children including Baby G. She doesn't have a cell phone - a rarity here in Port-au-Prince where anyone who possibly can will find a way to buy or be given a $10 handset.

Despite all the obstacles she faces, Mama G is trying to be the best mother she can. Baby G is a chubby baby – sometimes I am amazed that her tiny mom can carry her. Physically Baby G has developed well so far – she can sit up, crawl, and stand. She has been able to feed herself as long as I can remember - most likely a survival skill. One day, we encouraged Mama G to use some of her transport stipend to buy some food for herself. (We give mothers $2.50 to pay for transport for each study visit) She refused, saying she needed to use it to buy milk for Baby G. When she started the program, Mama G would arrive early on her scheduled visit and already be waiting when I arrived to unlock our office door at 8am. As the months went on, we noticed that she started coming one or two days late for her visits - especially on Mother’s Club days. We suspect she is too embarrassed of her situation to want to see the other mothers.

I’ve never seen a baby as serious as Baby G. Her eyes reflect an undestanding that life is hard. Getting her to smile is really difficult – laughing nearly impossible. That’s why I love the photo I’ve posted of her here so much. Despite her otherwise rapid development, Baby G can’t walk. Unless there is some sort of medical intervention I’m not sure if and when she will. When Baby G stands you can tell that one leg is significantly longer than the other. Her knees buckle to compensate. Her feet point out rather than straight. She needs corrective braces. She may need surgery. There is a hospital for developmental disorders here in Port-au-Prince that we plan to refer her to. I already know that Mama G won't be able to afford their $5-$10 fees. I need to figure out what more is possible from our side.

Those who know me know that I have a long history of orthopedic issues. When I was 8 I was hospitalized with a fairly rare condition that caused the cartilage in my hips to break down. For a brief period, my parents were unsure whether I would walk again. I spent the next several years on and off crutches. But living in Chicago, I had access to one of the world’s leading experts in pediatric hip disorders. I had a family with time and resources to see me through the extended treatment and rehabilitation process. Today, like Baby G, I do have one leg that is a bit longer than the other but I have access to everything I need to make up for that.

It’s rare that I recognize pieces of my own story in the lives of the mothers and children I work with. Our worlds are so different that I don't want to pretend to understand how they survive the day to day. Tuesday was the first day I recognized a small piece of what could have been my story - if I had been born in a different place to a different family. So what emotion was behind those tears? Empathy? Thankfulness? Anger? Compassion? I'm not really sure. I do know that Baby G's story has captured a piece of my heart.