Last night and in the morning I was a mess. I was having panic attacks. ShAking. Crying. Feeling really caught up in the intensity and I didn’t think I could manage to be around any other humans. I didn’t think I could go to the hospital to help people when I was feeling so broken and helpless myself.
But I did anyway.
I went to the NICU today where I spoke with two women that were refugees from somewhere in Africa. They both only spoke a sub language of Swahili. We had an interpreter come in so we could communicate. The social workers were overwhelmed. The nurse was at her wits end and didn’t know what to do anymore because she had been communicating through a computer program and translation was difficult.
Anyways, I met the interpreter who was one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen. The most clear, smooth skin. Wearing a gorgeous beaded dress that was purple and gold. She turned out to be as kind as she was beautiful. I spent two hours with these patients and her. We got to speak with WIC. Got appointments and paperwork prepared for the appointment. Found their pediatrician appointments through a kind woman at a different clinic, that didn’t even have to help me, but stayed on the phone with me until we got all the information we needed so the women could get their babies to the right place.
I was able to create a plan for getting formula to suppliment their breastmilk until their WIC appointment in two weeks.
I got to watch a first time mother give her baby his first bath. And her trepidation in getting soap in his eyes and then her smile as she realized the soap was safe and mild. The other mother was older, in her late 30s and she sat in a chair rocking while breastfeeding her son.
It was a privilege to have been a part of this today. I sat there thinking about how amazing it was that we were from different cultures and could not verbally communicate, but a smile is the same in every language. They both smiled and laughed and thanked me for the help.
When I first met them, they were frowning and hunched over, then just a couple hours later, they were upright and smiling. I realized i did that, especially after several NICU nurses thanked me and said that was the most they had accomplished with them in the 8 and 10 days they had been in the hospital.
Both social workers thanked me profusely and one gave me a high five and called me “tha bomb.”
So I guess what I am saying here is that hate may have won yesterday but today love prevailed and it will keep on that way, as long as we remember just showing up or being there for someone that needs it can make all the difference in this world.
Last night I cried for the ugliness of the world and right now I am crying for the prevailing hope and resiliency of mankind.
Peace and love to you all.