Tears of Joy and Tears of Sadness

Hospital Belen, Trujillo

Finally, an unbelievable day! Okay, that's not true.  Every day in Peru has been unbelievable.  But yesterday was a day that went even BETTER than planned! I walked into La Sala de Partos (labor and delivery) in the morning to see every delivery room full!  I had my first experience with a screamer, whereas most of the other mothers have barely make a sound. (This mother also left bruises in the shape of grip marks on my upper arm and wrist. In fact, I'm glad to have walked out of the room with all my bones intact!)  She held/deathgripped my hand through contractions, and looked to me for support as I gave her my limited repertoire of Spanish encouragement phrases.  It was amazing to watch, as the 17 year old kept repeating "no puedo, no puedo, no puedo!" (I can't, I can't, I can't!), but somehow she found the strength to delivery a perfect little boy.  The moment she saw her baby, tears of joy started falling down her cheeks and she turned to me to say, "gracias, gracias, gracias... no sé lo que habría hecho sin ti." (Thank you, thank you, thank you... I don't know what I would have done without you.)  If those words don't make you smile, I don't know what will.  It was a moment I will never forget. 

The second mother was 16 and delivered her baby at just 27 weeks gestation.  Premature births are extremely frequent in Peru.  The nurses told me that every incubator in the neonatal unit is always full and they frequently have to put two infants inside a single incubator- just to give you an idea of how often this occurs.  In the US when a baby is delivered that early, there is generally an entire team of doctors and nurses ready to assist the delivery.  Here, there is the normal staff, the neonatologist, an incubator, a pulsoximeter, and an oxygen tank.  The baby is delivered and carried to the warming table where the neonatologist quickly places it in a plastic bag and listens to it's tiny little lungs.  The baby yesterday was probably slightly longer than my hand.  It immediately cried and showed no signs of immediate distress, so they placed a teeny-tiny oxygen mask on the baby and whisked it away in the incubator to the neonatal unit.  Life then continued as usual; on to the next delivery.  Truly fanscinating, and oh, so tiny! 

I then made way to the next room.  Another 17 year old who also had the occasional tendency to scream and crush hands.  She was a sweetheart and I was able to help her through the course of her contractions, holding hands and massaging her aching back.  As I wrote in one of my previous blogs, the women are generally placed in a room with two beds; one for labor and another for delivery.  This poor mother was in a room without a delivery bed, so she had to walk down the hall (while fully dilated and having contractions), climb onto a metal bed, and proceed to delivery her adorable baby girl.  What a trooper she was.  It amazes me how in just one second these young girls change from being children themselves into mothers; forever responsible for a tiny life.

Part way through the progression of her labor, there was a lot of commotion in the hall and I heard, "¡expulsíon!" which essentially means, "he's crowning!"  Down the hall fly three nurses pushing a mother on a table, with the baby clearly making it's grand entrance into the world.  I won't go into any more detail on the birth, but it was the saddest thing I have yet seen.  The baby was stillborn.  The mother had some sort of mental deficit and the obstetrician told me later that the baby had a birth defect that caused premature birth at just 20 weeks.  Apparently, this is also fairly common in Peru so they handled it quickly and stoically.  I however, had to wipe away tears; it was devastating to witness. 

Today was my last day working at the hospital.  It was a busy day- Friday the 13th.  Peruvians are quite superstitious, but for them Friday the 13th is more a day of unpredictability, not necessarily bad luck.  For Peruvians, today is more importantly, Día de la Virgen de Fátima (a day in remembrance of a Portuguese woman, Lucía Santa, who saw many apparations of the Virgin Mary starting the night of May 13th, 1917). They believe that it is a day that many babies will be born.  I think there may have been some truth: babies were born right and left.  I brought my camara and was able to take many pictures of the hospital, the awesome staff, and the delivery rooms (forget HIPAA rules here!).  I honestly am sad to be leaving.  In the course of my time at the hospital, I have made some great friends!  The people are so genuine, kind, and friendly.  Never once during my time there was a treated as a Gringa, and ambrazos y besos (hugs and kisses) were shared as I left.  It was hard to say goodbye to them, but I hope to return some day.  And more importantly, Alaska is calling my name...