86 Trees

What a week ...

Sunday afternoon Charles had chills and some stomach trouble. Oh no ... We were in charge of the team and Tony was gone, Charles was out of commission. That meant I was driving the truck with the team to the job site. Jaques, our national architect, said "I didn't know women know how to drive." Fortunate for him, I was preaching to Lilly about turning a cheek so I did just that when he made that comment.

A staff member and I were also taking on Charles' role watering the 86 trees a team just planted here since we haven't had rain in a week. Miguelson and I spent a lot of time carrying buckets to trees and wondering how much water a tree in Haiti needs and talking about how to have integrity in a corrupted country.

Charles and I had both been holding our breaths with our tentative plans to go on an anniversary getaway this week. There are so many unforeseen variables that we held loosely to our plans but hoped for the best, mostly because Leyna and Hunter were lined up to be caretakers while we were gone. I knew the opportunity didn't come often.

By Monday Charles was feeling better and I was hopeful. A sheer miracle.

Monday afternoon I held Bible study for the ladies. Slowly the ladies trickled in ... 23 of them. The numbers are growing which is encouraging. More opportunity to know our community. We are studying the Fruit of the Spirit and this week we studied patience. I was humbled by their stories and input as well as all of their questions. One lady when asked for examples of patience, said that her husband worked and never got paid. The children were literally starving. The woman was so angry that he wasn't paid and there was no money for food. The husband kept telling her to wait. Then one day the money came. And more paid jobs came with it. The wife said she learned patience. Their real life examples are not the same here. It's like getting a glimpse into their lives every week.

About dinner time I found Lilly in the fetal position on her bed saying her head was breaking and her stomach hurt. I could tell she had fever. Another bad sign since we were planning to leave twelve hours later. Every parent feels this panic when something is planned and a child starts showing symptoms like this. Monday night gave to no sleep, a lot of tylenol and the depressing thought of canceling our trip. At one point Lilly was on the potty and was screaming "my stomach is going to hurt the rest of my life." I've had that thought so many times and yet I was trying to tell her it would eventually go away. It did and as I got back in bed my alarm went off. I turned it off since we were no longer leaving. But when the girls woke up, Lilly seemed completely normal. She said she was better and she would see me when we got back. She didn't have fever and I think Charles and I both had the same thought. Let's make a run for it. So we left and told Leyna we'd check in. It's a little different when your babysitter doesn't have a (Haitian) phone and you leave them with your could-be-sick kid.

We checked into our room at Moulin Sur Mer (MSM) at approximately 8:30a.m. despite the 3pm check-in time. It was so nice to be on the beach. We were located right next to Obama Beach with a poorly painted mural of Barak Obama next to it. We drank coffee and soaked in the freedom we haven't felt before in Haiti of being by ourselves. Our Haitian co-workers dropped us off so even if we had wanted to leave, we couldn't. The resort was an antiquated sugar plantation many years ago and the antiques left were a significant theme for the resort. We packed a beach bag and headed for some lounge chairs. We hadn't been there 10 minutes when I got a text saying Lilly's fever was back up to 102 and she was really still so sick at her stomach. Oh the feeling of wanting to be omnipresent. I had a harder time enjoying the beach and consulted with Tony. We ended up staying - taking it as a sign from God that she was better the hour we were planning to go and leaving it at that. Leyna gave her tylenol. Another text said she was vomiting. The whole thing was unsettling until I talked to Lilly before bed and she said "yeah, I have had gatorade all day and watched a lot of Veggie Tales." She didn't sound too pathetic. The symptoms were very similar to that of Ava 10 days ago and Charles' on Sunday. Maybe since I have stomach trouble all the time, God was being gracious this go round.

We were about the only people at this beach resort. We read, swam in the ocean, ran, floated in the pool and talked about all the things that we attempt to discuss with interruptions from two little people. The swimming in the ocean was great until it turned into more like "swimming with the jelly fish." And then I realized I still had a fear of crabs when I saw a host of them on the beach. No thank you crabs. Since the whole thing was a package including meals, we arrived at the restaurant around 7:45 for dinner. The buffet was from 7-10pm. The funny thing we learned about a Haitian buffet is that it's more like first come, first serve because they don't replenish the buffet. The 7-10pm is more realistically 7-8pm. We watched as a few guests were left with filling their plates with rice. Another odd thing about the meals at MSM was that when we arrived at the restaurant for lunch the second day there was no buffet. The man said it was 'a la carte' and handed us a menu. Charles and I asked a couple of times in our best Creole if drinks were included. "Wi," he answered. After ordering 2 passion fruit drinks, we ordered from the menu. Charles ordered grilled lobster and just to double check, asked the waiter again if it was included. He said it was. Charles was delighted when he brought out a large plate of lobster and had no problem licking the plate clean. Soon after, we were practically chased out of the room by another waiter who wanted to give us our bill. What bill? It was part of the package. Turns out it wasn't. After a little more communication, we left the bill unsigned and went on our way. (Funny enough we still found the drinks and lobster on our bill at check out and ended up arguing with the owner that it really wasn't our $30 mistake). I recommended the owner have an 'a la carte' menu with specific items that are included. All that to say Charles was a fan of grilled lobster (and all the clarified butter that went with it). The last morning we were there, the waiter came out and said, "what do you want for breakfast?" There wasn't even a menu at that point. The previous mornings included spaghetti, fried hot dogs, boiled plantains, and a smoky anchovies dish at the buffet for breakfast. I just asked for fruit at that point.

Night number 2 didn't quite go as planned when Charles woke up at midnight vomiting the steak and cheesecake he had eaten for dinner. Charles' symptoms put a damper on the last day at the beach but we managed to make the best of it given we hadn't slept. I decided to run that morning by myself since Charles was down for the count. I was already feeling a little skeptical running in an area I didn't know when toward the end of my allotted run time (Charles gave me) I was in this passageway with a wall on one side and bushes on the other. In a split second a man came running out of the bushes with a machete and I wanted to be brave, but was paralyzed instead, especially when I realized Mr. Machete No. 2 was behind Mr. Machete No. 1 and my run had put me in the path of one high speed machete chase. Glad they weren't after me. I didn't do anything to them after all. I did have my phone and it crossed my mind that I could actually get it all on camera and then I thought they might both be after me if I did that. So telling you about it will have to suffice.

On the way back from the beach a young boy about 12 years old looked the opposite direction and darted across the street. That was honestly the closest I think I have ever come to seeing someone hit by a car. I was so thankful Meresse didn't hit him. I asked Alex what happens if Meresse were to hit him. I was surprised when he said, "people would be angry and we would all need to get out and run away." So Alex is saying me running through the streets of Port Au Prince would be the best scenario if Meresse were to hit a kid who ran into the street in front of a truck without looking? Little white American lost in a sea of dark skin people, running from the scene of the accident. I think I need to do some more speedowork on the treadmill.

We arrived last night to the team and two little girls running into our arms yelling "Mommy, Papi...you're home" ... It crossed my mind that this is actually home. It's always a little odd when we leave our "new home" and come back to it, calling it "home."

Charles, Lilly and Ava are now all on the mend but not totally healthy. I'm hoping I don't get the bad bacteria they're fighting. And Chikingunya (Chicken Gumbo as we nicknamed it) is still being spread by mosquitos ... May we all be healthy again soon.

We brought the girls back a Haitian doll and some shells from the ocean. Charles was also adamant about buying a painting since we have traditionally bought a piece of art for every anniversary. This time it meant holding a canvas in our laps the entire trip back to the Hope Center - not a well-thought-through plan. Oh well. Lilly asked me if I painted it ... I think just because I stayed in the lines when we were painting with watercolors the other day. She was also proudly going over the 10 Commandments she had learned in my absence when she got to adultery and said "God doesn't want us to marry too much people." I love hearing her brain.

This morning Leyna and a neighborhood kid were going to go running. He never showed so I offered to go with Leyna. I had literally just said you never really know what you're going to see out on a run when we got to the point where I usually turn around and a man was standing 100 feet away in the river bed dancing naked for us. We both screamed and turned around. Unfortunately, he was not a bit shy ... or slow. He began chasing us more out of joke than with any intention to harm. I have to say that's the first time I've been chased by a naked man. We were hoping he had been drinking some of the sugar cane drink and wasn't doing that sober-mindedly.

Always an adventure here with us....

     Meresse and Alex picked us up and wanted a tour of the beach

Swimming with the jelly fish

lobster lunch! 

shrimp and purple garlic

Part of the original sugar can plantation 

unique trees

They make screens in place of fences or walls for privacy

A little unique...this is a carriage with stick people chained behind it... still left from slavery days

This is where Mr. Machete No. 1 and 2 crossed my running path

jelly fish!

Plants were so big and beautiful

Crazy tree!

Charles drinking coconut

Our room complete with a denim comforter

The girls with their new Haitian dolls

Plan B Construction

This week Charles and I both started laughing as we drove past a warehouse in Port Au Prince that had a big sign which read "Plan B Construction." The longer we are here, the more we realize that Plan B is very likely a reality. We continue to learn flexibility in the most involuntary opportunities. For example, we spent the day Friday preparing for a new team to arrive on Saturday. Between Tony and Charles, we had a fine tune plan to pick the team up in the BGM school bus and transport three flights of team members to the Hope Center. Friday night we were all sitting down for dinner when Merese, our bus driver, mentions in passing that the school bus was broken down in Port Au Prince and that the water pump would have to be replaced before he could drive it. Small glitch. It's not as easy as one might think to transport 20 Americans in Haiti and change plans on a dime. We worked it out fairly quickly into something that actually worked better for everyone but that's just an example. Plan B Construction probably gets a lot of business.

Fortunately, the past week has been one of recovery and preparation. We welcomed Hunter on Tuesday and between him and Leyna I've decided there is no better free labor in all of Haiti! They are the best help here at the Hope Center and with the girls. They can be found homeschooling, washing dishes, cleaning out the shed, reading a bedtime story, etc. Leyna brought us a new ice cream maker and we are trying to patiently await the frozen yogurt that will be ready in a few hours. Hunter brought us an Eno hammock and now we find the girls hidden in a hammock instead of cleaning their room. Oh well.

Ava has made so much progress and we still are unaware of what made her so sick. We are thankful for her improvements. Please keep praying that her frequent stomach cramps and diarrhea would dissipate. It's no easy task to keep a three-year-old hydrated in Haiti or find bathrooms in a pinch for that matter.

Yesterday we were able to spend the day in Port Au Prince at a hotel with a swimming pool while Charles and staff picked up the team. It's always refreshing to be somewhere different and to enjoy the sunshine when there's relief from the heat in a pool. And the hotel has wifi. I won't lie, it's a challenge to spend time with the girls swimming when I could be looking up a recipe, face timing with a friend, updating the blog, emailing a picture, all the things slow internet lacks. However, it's so refreshing that our phones don't interrupt our lives like they did in the States. There are less "hold on" and "let me just text this" and "I'm almost finished reading this blog" that plagued my mommy role before. A friend and I spent some time last year talking about as a parent, our presence over presents. Always an intentional effort and not always success. We were also able to get away to the beach on Thursday and feel the sand or rocks between our feet. It was fun to relax and show Hunter and Leyna a different part of Haiti. My friend Maria says the beach always heals and I always think of that because I think there is something to it ... I do feel like the break is healing. It keeps us coming back to the Hope Center with fresh perspective, new energy and more motivation to serve.

As I prepared for the Bible study I lead on Mondays, I was reminded of what a (slow) process it is to learn God's character and implement it in our own lives. I am teaching on Galatians 5:22-23 and the Fruit of the Spirit. It's one Fruit - all of them ... We know we are growing if we grow in them altogether. So hard!! This week is on patience. Charles saw me preparing and asked how it was going. I said, "depressing." Not really, but I have so far to go on patience. Tim Keller says, "Patience is long suffering - delayed gratification." It's so hard to wait but I also realize that I don't want to be one to tell God what to do and when to do it. I want to trust. I want to be patient. Ava says mommy 10 times in 10 seconds and Lilly's crying over a spelling word and the kitchen timer goes off and I can't find the spatula. I lose my patience. I want more patience .. I want the gratification even if I have to wait. The bottom line is that there's no shortcut in obedience to God's schedule. I know I don't know better than God but sometimes I pretend I do. And my impatience with people is an impatience with God.

Thank you for lifting us up. This week has been evidence in your surrounding us to run the race God has marked out for us.

Rainy Day for Fighting the Bad Guys

 the backyard garden

 Hunter Friday and Leyna

As I write, rain falls heavy on the tin roof and I am reminded of God's goodness to water the earth here. At the same time, I think of the roads flooding, those around us without roofs, children walking home from school soaking wet and the good and hard things that rainy season in Haiti brings.

We arrived home from the hospital Saturday night and this week seems to be different than the others.  It was my fault to assume that leaving the hospital = well. I should've known this from my mom. Leaving the hospital = first step to recovery. Sunday I was surprised that Ava's symptoms were trending down but continuing. She was mostly struggling with stomach cramps and too many (green) dirty diapers as well as fluctuating fever and lack of appetite. Ava seemed to reject any type of fluid I could think to offer. Same thing Monday and today. She told me her stomach is broken. Several times an hour she goes from whatever she is doing to a moan and into the fetal position. It makes me so sad. I do a chore around the house and hold her. Get Lilly started on another subject and then hold Ava. Start dinner. Hold Ava. It's been a pattern. I've received different medical advice from each person who has offered it. We received lab results last night that simply read negative. I guess it would be helpful if we knew what was negative. From what we know it's some sort of bacterial infection along the lines of typhoid or salmonella. Going with the symptoms, we seem to know what we're looking for that would indicate we need to seek more help and until that happens, we're going to keep fighting the bad guys. I think i've said it may be a dozen times but I am so thankful we are not hosting a team this week. It's been nice to be able to comfort Ava and welcome our two interns back to Haiti. Leyna was a life saver over the weekend and Hunter Friday has just arrived today. Friday, as we call him, is here for three weeks and is going from here on to Peru until August. Lilly said "Mom, Friday comes on Tuesday this week." The girls love having extra friends here!

We were nervous the other day that Ava may have the Chikingunya virus that is being spread all over Haiti from mosquitos. Fortunately, we ruled that out for Ava. Unfortunately, it is spreading like wildfire here and so many we know are suffering from it. It is nicknamed the "Lazy Bones Virus" since one of the symptoms is achy bones. The two ladies who cook for us on the hill both have it along with a number of neighbors in our village. There is no real preventive other than mosquito spray. I was teaching the weekly women's Bible study yesterday afternoon outside in the breezeway. Due to the virus I offered the ladies some repellent. They kindly declined it even though two of the ladies who came have the virus! I'm amazed at their resilient spirit but saddened that so many are and will be fighting the virus in the days to come. So many people in the village have knocked on the gate despite the sign that says clinic is closed and that Tony is not here. I offer them tylenol and pray for them but send them away still hurting. It's been a pivotal experience for me to understand the depths of struggle on so many levels in a third world country.

On Sunday we heard a message to missionaries about the reality that sometimes when we give it's never enough or the relationships we hope for are jeopardized by constant want on the field. And though we are missionaries, we are not invincible. We hurt from those experiences and manipulations in relationships. I was reminded of that this morning. I was out running this morning when I saw a group of 5 or 6 high school girls who were dressed in uniform walking to school. As I got closer to passing them I could tell they were trying to tell me something. I had already been stopped by several people from the village asking me for medicine due to their symptoms and knowing I work with Tony in the clinic. I slowed to understand them and came to a stop when I still struggled to make out what they were saying. After less than a minute two girls grabbed my arms and one tried to grab a really small cross necklace from my neck. They tried to grab my ring from my ring finger as well. I took off and was surprised at their swiftness given their flat school shoes and size. They were persistent. I was chased for a half mile or so when they finally gave up on the jewelry. I was glad because a sprint on rocks is not pretty and a fall on the rocks, even uglier. While I had mace in my hand I was hesitant to use it. I think about how I will probably see those girls again and I don't want anything premeditated or unnecessary danger. It was such an odd encounter. I thought they were saying something about the Hope Center but not at all. Relationships are hard here. I'm learning slowly. Lilly said about school today, "I don't want to do the hard stuff." Me either, baby, me either. "But that's life," I told her.

Thank you for being a part of our life in Haiti ... God is good all the time. All the time God is good.

Pedialyte and A Prayer

Ava and Alex

Thursday I actually said the words I have nothing much to say on the blog because we haven't had any adventures lately. Spoke too soon. Thursday afternoon Ava seemed puny and started running a low-grade fever. At lunch, she opted to forego her peanut butter and jelly for a nap but then wouldn't eat dinner either. I gave her a dose of tylenol at bedtime and noticed her coloring wasn't good and that she had an accident in her pants. When I went to bed I picked her up off her floor and put her back to bed. She felt hot. I chalked it up to her feeling bad and went to bed. I heard her screaming at 10:30pm and Charles got up with her. Then he yelled for me. She was burning up. I started undressing her for a cool bath when the thermometer climbed beyond 104 degrees. She was so hot. She wouldn't stop crying. She was complaining of a stomach ache. She wanted to throw up, diarrhea, the works. She kept on screaming that ants were all over her when clearly they weren't. I thought she was hallucinating from the fever. We decided we would ride in with the team Friday morning to PAP and try to see a doctor. I stayed up with Ava through the night as she moaned of stomach pains and sweated out the fever.

Friday morning we were both exhausted but it encouraged me her fever dropped to 103 and she was interested in eating oatmeal. I wasn't encouraged for long. I didn't realize how much I depend on Tylenol for fever especially when her fever is so high and Tylenol won't touch it. We said goodbye to the team and went straight to a hospital. First stop, the hospital wouldn't let Charles and Lilly in. I went in with Ava and Alex. The hospitals here are overflowing with several mosquito-related viruses creating an epidemic. People waiting to be seen in every corner. Children moaning. Mamas crying while swatting flies off of their babies. It reminded me of something National Geographic would put on the cover. They laughed at us showing up at 10a.m. wanting to see a doctor. I literally could count hundreds of people desperately waiting, making me no exception at all. Alex and the assistant swapped words in Creole while Ava's cries became stronger and more demanding until again she vomited everywhere. We were both covered and the entire lady's office floor now puddled. I had Haitian dollars in my hand and as I threw away a plastic bag at my best attempt to catch puke and accidentally threw away the wad of money with it too. I was just standing there with hundreds of eyes on my white skin and a saturated little girl. Both of us feeling helpless and now broke.

After some more conversation which I did not understand, Alex motioned me to go and Ava threw up again. We quickly left. I've never felt so dejected ... like 'so what your kid is sick, all of our kids are sick.'

On to hospital number two. We swapped from the school bus to BGM's truck and realized we have no car seats. We started our way to the second hospital when we were abruptly stopped by a traffic jam that would go on for miles. Ava and I both in the back seat doused in puke and now Ava's pants are soiled and it was seeping through my skirt. She was crying from the pain and her fever was back up to 104. Tylenol wasn't working. Alex made the decision to get out of traffic and we went to a third hospital. Here we had a little miscommunication. Charles and I were starting to get worried about Ava and her decreased responsiveness. We arrived at the general hospital in PAP. There was a lab willing to do tests but at this point we wanted monitoring. We had posted a plea for advice on a group with fellow Americans in Haiti. More than one person recommended getting her tested for Malaria, CBC, Chikingunya, and so forth. Through a series of events we changed direction again in route to a fourth hospital but this one would be different. We had a contact there and several other missionaries had called ahead and they were expecting us. I was half way expecting Ava to pass out any minute between lack of sleep, nausea, dehydration, etc. She seemed to be getting sicker. She was almost too hot to touch. By now the color had completely drained out of her body and she wouldn't even talk to me.

We arrived at the hospital and again it seemed like it was overflowing with people. We could barely get in the gate. Families huddled in corners, ambulance's sirens deafening conversations, desperate faces. It was awful. Doctors were running from ward to ward and people were holding their hands out like a hitch hiker would as a last ditch effort to be seen. Again, hundreds of heads turned as "blancs" walked in. We looked for our contact person to no avail. He was out of town. Who was expecting us? Ava's fever was back up beyond 104. By a sheer miracle a nurse grabbed Ava's hand to try to calm her and realized how hot she was. She allowed us to follow her and she led us to a sink with a towel and a clean diaper we could exchange for her dirty one. She was so miserable. I was on the brink of tears. How could we not get help? My first thought is that money was not an issue for us. Let's just get help.

After a series of events, we were seen by a Haitian doctor who wanted to admit Ava immediately. He let us know (in English) that it did look very possible and likely that Malaria could be the cause given her symptoms. The second doctor said the same thing. The second possibility was Chikungunya, another mosquito-spread virus that has turned into a national epidemic or thirdly, Dengue Fever. They undressed her soaked clothes and started an IV immediately.

Soon they moved us into the PICU ward where a bed (with dirty sheets) was waiting next to a number of other beds filled with sick children. I realized then that none of them had even asked Ava's name. No paperwork to it. Hallways of waiting Haitians were hateful that we were being seen. It seemed more of a silent plea in their eyes than anything. Everyone was desperate, including us. But they were still waiting.

I can't even tell you the horrific things I saw at those hospitals. Nothing I could have imagined in my wildest thoughts. Some very unbelievable things that were real. Babies suffering like I don't know suffering. Patients without beds. Those receiving breathing treatments from the floor and those begging for just a tylenol or cup of water. Mamas and spouses and sisters and dads and friends bent over in grief and desperation. Looks I haven't seen before that were numbed of emotion and full of hopelessness. Malaria stricken children and crippled elderly. It broke my heart and yet I was focused on getting Ava care. I kept thinking of that movie The Impossible with Naomi Watts and the shots of the hospitals amid the disaster. It was different than anything I've seen with my own eyes. In the middle of the night I went to the the bathroom and people were sleeping on the floor in those narrow hallways.

The hours were long and Ava's moans were drawn out and there was nothing quiet or calm about this ward of sick children. Mamas and daddy's growing accustomed to machines going off and the buzz of oxygen machines pumping oxygen into babies' lungs. Nurses were very outnumbered. I don't know how many times I prayed I could understand more Creole. Nothing like having a sick baby lay in bed while nurses tell you what's going on in a language your brain refuses to comprehend due to a deficit of knowledge and no sleep.

Thankfully we had a backup plan for our friend Leyna to be picked up from the airport and brought to the hospital. Leyna has been here before and is here this time for three weeks. She willingly took on the job of entertaining Lilly who was constantly trying to come up with a good excuse to be admitted as well for equal attention. Lilly really had been such a trooper through all of it.

After Charles and Alex spent the better part of the evening trying to find another hospital that had a lab open 24 hours, they arrived back with plates of rice and beans around 9pm. Lilly commented that she didn't even get lunch. I guess I overlooked lunch. Not my only fault of the day. I forgot the bag of snacks. Two strikes on the nutrition chart for me.

Alex helped us get Lilly and Leyna to a nearby mission guesthouse where they could sleep. Charles and I started taking turns sleeping in the truck while the other stayed with Ava. The pediatric ward had all lights on and sounds buzzing and clanging. Sleep was not part of the equation. The nurse gave me a plastic chair about 11pm after standing for nearly 9 hours by Ava's side.

Alex came in about 3:30a.m. and said I should just go sleep in the truck where Charles was and that he would take a shift. I did. But the windows were down and I was hesitant to wake Charles to put them up with the heat that builds up in the truck. I was nervous about someone taking advantage of us sleeping and attempting to steal the truck key or something within reach. People were lingering everywhere and without cause not to mention with a lot of desperation. I went against my convictions, and just put my phone in the console in case Alex needed me. I woke up two hours later even though it seemed like only two minutes later. My phone was gone. I woke Charles up. His phone was gone. Then we noticed Alex' bag was gone and most importantly Charles' leather bag with money and passports were gone. It was all gone. I jumped up and ran into the hospital looking for Alex. I found Alex and said everything is missing from the truck. I think someone must have stolen it. I really was panicked. Alex had taken it all and put it inside. Ava had been crying for me and Alex kept calling. When we didn't answer he went to check on us and realized we were sleeping too hard to have all those bags and phones in plain sight with the windows down. He said "I think like the poor Haitian." He opened the door, got it all out and shut the door without either of us even flinching. Charles and I were so relieved we didn't have to even go there. Lesson learned.

The early morning hours while Charles and Alex slept, I read your messages and emails. I was so encouraged by the support we have. We have had some very challenging moments here and yet your support has really brought us through. I read some of them out loud to Ava even though she slept. I just wanted to testify out loud to her that so many people love her. We are humbled and grateful for you and the support you provide us from there. In a lonely place, I found such comfort in your words and prayers.

It was so different after just spending a week in the hospital with my mom. Here the floors were dirty. Flies constantly landing on Ava. The lights were all on. Feeling bad changing more than a dozen stinky diapers with so many people so close by. Only knowing Ava's temperature sheerly by the nurse's face since the thermometer read in the 30s or 40s. Why are we not on the metric system? People coming in every few minutes with a door that squeaked. One nurse was looking for something and Ava's temperature was just above 104 and finally I asked can I give her Tylenol? The nurse looked relieved and said yes. I wish I had known she was looking for Tylenol all that time. But we couldn't speak to each other.

This morning we saw improvement. Slowly, good news trickled in and soon our Ava was feeling better. The new day brought new hope. The doctor explained test results and tested a second time for Malaria. This was our biggest concern and greatest fear. Fortunately, I called tonight and confirmed that all tests came back negative so far. We are still waiting for cultures but we were cleared for discharge. Ava's color has come back slowly. The diarrhea and lack of appetite persist but no fever or vomiting. I met a nice Canadian doctor who reached out to us and encouraged us just to monitor Ava at home.

I found it almost comical and frustrating at the same time that as Charles was putting the girls in the truck and packing everything up, I was called back inside. A resident doctor wanted me to fill out the admission paperwork. While I appreciated Ava being admitted so rapidly, I was unsure why they were waiting until we were discharged to get 8 pages of history on Ava's health. Just protocol I assume. We finished paperwork, jumped in the truck and the doctor came running out, waving at us to stop. She had forgotten to do the physical assessment of Ava. We had to go back in, take off Ava's clothes, have the resident fully examen her (after discharge papers were given). Ava screamed bloody murder about going back in and if it weren't so unacceptable I think I was on the verge of doing the same. The resident finished the exam, we loaded up again and this time we got to the gate and the same resident realized she had not given us the prescription for the antibiotics for Ava. The third time walking in was almost torture. I was so ready to get out of there.

The fourth time we drove out of the gate, all of us silently clapping we had broken free from that experience like a few jail birds knowing freedom after a long stint of bondage. We didn't have to hear beeping or see suffering or hear the baby's cries. What a sad, sad environment which weighed heavy on me.

Charles and I look back though and thank God for all the little details. Doctors who spoke English willing to see Ava, her bed being by a small air unit, Leyna helping with Lilly and Alex being an interpreter for us, the guards at the Hope Center feeding Mack and the overall outcome that what we thought could be something serious like Malaria possibly with long term effects, turns out to be a less complex virus with temporary symptoms. Another story that testifies God's goodness. And the days/night in the hospital was less expensive than a night at the Holiday Inn.

Of course we drive back to the Hope Center and find out the guards have Chikungunya virus and need help. Never a dull moment.

We are tired. But so thankful. We are praying against all odds that Ava is the only one to suffer through whatever it is she has.

Can't quit thinking about all the people still waiting for medical care and all the ones who can't even get to the hospital to get it. It's so different after seeing so much with my own eyes.

So grateful ... for so many reasons. I haven't been at such a loss for words in a while.

Thank you for partnering with us in this crazy journey.

tree planting

Couldn't get this to post earlier in the week ... 

Since I last wrote our lives have seemed somewhat calm with little to report on.

This week's team is a little unique. Mostly we have church groups come, a few professionals who want to help out, college students fulfilling some kind of service hour requirement, but this week the team is made up of Brasfield & Gorrie employees and a few agronomists from Auburn.

This week was Jim Gorrie's third trip here since the earthquake. Being the boss of a multi-million dollar contracting company, it says a lot that he is here this week. Not only is he here, but he emailed some of his staff and about 20 people signed up to come serve with him. I told Charles that it is inspiring to see Christian principles lived out in the work place from the top down. Some of the team members said they had only met Mr. Gorrie in passing and that it was a delight to work with him in person here. Mr. Gorrie even brought his son to experience Haiti for himself. The group has been outstanding in their willingness and ability to serve. One day this week was designated "Ag Day" and the team planted almost 100 trees around the Hope Center and in the community as well as built a second chicken coop. I appreciated Charles' thoughtfulness to have members of the community come claim a tree and plant it near their house. They each vowed to water the tree and take ownership of it. Charles is off to town to buy 6 more chickens for the coop. The three agronomists here from Auburn University have been very interested in Charles' ideas on soil, gardening and irrigation. I am amazed to see him work alongside people with similar passions.

Lilly is doing outstanding in school these days and we will continue the school routine until we go to the States June 20. Ava spends her time telling her baby dolls what to do. 

We continue to feel confident God has a plan and purpose to work in and through us here in Haiti. 

Storm coming through

I shot these from the rooftop as the storm was coming in. 

Too bad even the shots don't do it justice. Enjoy nonetheless.

The golden egg! This is the first egg our chickens laid. 

Lilly was so proud to find it! Ava just wanted in the picture.