This is what it looks like at the clinic when a mother brings her son in, unsure if he will walk back out.

Obendy is 18. He lives with his mother, Denouse, in a small community outside Jacmel, Haiti. For more than a week, he had a fever that wouldn’t break, and each day he grew weaker—disoriented, in pain. If you’ve ever watched someone you love decline like that, you know the feeling. Not just worry, but the realization that this may be beyond what you can fix.

By the time Denouse reached the clinic with her son, she was already in tears. In Haiti, access to care is never assumed. Tests cost money. Treatment costs money. Families are often forced to make impossible choices between healthcare, food, or even the cost of getting there. Some delay care. Some turn to options that simply don’t work.

Denouse wasn’t just afraid of losing her son. She was afraid she would not be able to afford the tests and treatment needed to save him. But she was not giving up. His future was worth fighting for.

(Left) 18 year old Obendy receives stabilizing IV fluids at the CCH Primary Care Clinic, then (right) he and his mom, Denouse, have a consultation with Dr. Rachelle Frézin.

Dr. Rachelle Frézin acted quickly. Obendy was stabilized, treated, and tested. He received the care he needed, including the lab work to understand what was wrong. That care was made possible through the support of donors like you.

The diagnosis was serious: multiple infections and anemia. Left untreated, any one of these can become life-threatening. Together, they can overwhelm the body quickly, especially when care is delayed. He received the treatment he needed and recovered.

His mother took him home. He is going to be okay.

Because of your support, the clinic had the medicine, testing, and staff needed to treat him. And Denouse had a safe place to turn when she was in the grip of every mother’s greatest fear.

This is what access to healthcare looks like. Not just a building, but a place where care begins with need, not cost.

Right now, more patients are arriving than the clinic was designed to handle. Some have traveled for hours. Some have been displaced from their homes in the last year. By mid-morning, the clinic is often full. When funding falls short, care changes. There are days when not everyone can be seen, and some are asked to return. Supplies stretch. Difficult decisions follow.

But because of you, more people are still being treated before it’s too late.

Because of CCH donors, moms like Denouse feel supported during life’s hardest moments. Patients like Obendy receive the tests and medicines they need to regain their health.

In 2026, we are raising $720,000 to keep healthcare accessible across southeast Haiti. Right now, we are feeling the strain. April has been a difficult month, and patient demand continues to rise. Families are already on the road before sunrise, hoping to arrive in time to be seen.

We cannot be the place that turns them away. Because love is stubborn, and it keeps showing up—just like moms do.