Discovering Aljany, Pt. 4: Birth in Haiti
(Editor’s note: We present Aljany’s story in her own words with only minor edits. As you read, some elements of her experience in Haiti’s healthcare system may be perplexing. It’s a familiar story if you speak to Haitian women who give birth in public hospitals, and it’s testament to a couple important things:
How more profitable procedures, like the cesarean section, are often presented to Haitian women as the only safe option, even if they are unnecessary.
The value in educating mothers about pregnancy, birth, and delivery, encouraging them to listen to their bodies and equipping them to make informed decisions throughout a birth journey. This is core – imperative – to the Heartline Maternity Center’s philosophy. It is not a concern in other Haitian hospitals.
Aljany’s birth experience is frustrating to read about – imagine the difficulty for her and her family! It’s a good reminder that if you’re a supporter of Heartline, your giving is providing care that is safer, more compassionate, and more informative to so many Haitian women. Thank you.
From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I wondered about childbirth. It was something that scared me. Like many Haitians, I’d heard hundreds of stories of births gone wrong. So I was preparing myself for a difficult and painful time.
Pain frightened me and at the same time fascinated me. I often felt physical pain, especially during my period. As a good Haitian woman, I thought that the pain of childbirth was no problem – erased by the epidural.
But I wondered how women managed to deal with this pain for so long without the epidural. I wanted to do that too – to prepare myself for a birth without an epidural, so that I would be free to move during the process. I thought it was a great challenge.
My birth experience
I was 9 months pregnant at the beginning of March. My feet were swollen and my belly was very big, but I still felt good and I slept quite well. My sister took me for a photoshoot at the Royal Oasis Hotel in Pétion-Ville so that I could document some good memories of the pregnancy. Everything went well, but I didn't feel too beautiful in the pictures. I felt that I had grown and that I had a big nose.
At the beginning of April, I went to the Canapé-Vert Hospital, one of the nicest private hospitals in Port-au-Prince, to have my last ultrasound. I met the famous Haitian musician BIC there! He said to me, "Looking at the length of your belly, I can see right away that it's a boy. You are not far from giving birth to this champion." I smiled and left. A week later, I was to give birth.
On April 25th, around 4 a.m., I felt like I needed to go to the bathroom. My husband helped me there, because my swollen feet made it difficult to walk. The bathroom visit was unproductive. The next thing I knew, I needed to go again. My mother knew that this wasn’t normal. She said, "You don't really need to go to the bathroom, it's just contractions. Pack your bag, we're going to the hospital."
When I got to the hospital, a doctor examined me and asked for another ultrasound. After the tests were done, he let me know that I needed a C-section. But all the doctors refused to do the operation, saying they didn't have the tools and materials at the hospital.
Mom and baby.
My husband and I didn't have the money to deliver in a private hospital. The doctor I was getting my ultrasounds from had asked for 150,000 HTG ($1,755 USD at the time). That wasn’t going to happen, so we had to go to the more affordable public hospital where my sister worked. She asked the doctors to make a list of the materials they would need for the operation. Once they had the list, my sister and one of her nurse friends went on an expedition through the hospital to get the materials, procuring everything we needed.
(Editor’s note: If it hasn’t been clear to this point – in Haiti, patients are required to supply materials and tools for their doctors, on top of the fees they pay.)
But there was a problem – my water still hadn't broken and my cervix was only 2 cm dilated.
I got back to the hospital around 10 a.m. I spent the whole day there waiting for the cervix to open completely and for my water to break. From time to time, a doctor came to see me to check the baby's heartbeat. My sister also kept me company throughout the day. I don't know what I would have done without her.
My friend Gregg and my husband spent the whole day just outside, in the hospital waiting room. But my situation had not changed.
Around 7:00 p.m. a doctor arrived to call it. He broke my water and took me into the operating room. The pain was immense. Soon after, my son was born, with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. The doctors said that if they hadn't decided to perform the C-section in time, he could have died. But God decided otherwise. And I finally met the person I had been waiting for. My beloved son. Another time, I will tell you how special he is and how much joy he brings me.
Read the series!
Part Three: The Long-Awaited Meeting
Part Seven: How Can You Be a Journalist Here?
Discover more!
About the Author
Aljany Narcius
Haitian journalist Aljany Narcius is currently pursuing a Master 2 in Media Management, online from France’s University of Lille. With ten years of experience in the fields of journalism and communication, Aljany is a linguist who uses the Creole language as her weapon in the fight against social inequalities, exploitation, and all kinds of violence.
