African Dreams

I was checking my email the other day, hoping my sister had sent a reply to a whine-fest, I in which I detailed all my astronomical life problems, and I found this instead:

I've now had the new and heart-breaking experience of watching a baby I know, die. I've just returned from her funeral and I've been thinking...a lot. Even though I'm in Africa, I've mostly seen the good side. Our babies are so well taken care of. Even though they come from some terrible backgrounds like being left in toilets, trash bins, being burned from the elements or having seen parents murdered. And even though some have come to us so malnourished they looked like skeletons with big, pleading eyes. Once they are here, surrounded with 24 hours of love and care they become happy and beautiful! Even the HIV+ children you would never be able to pick out! They're gorgeous, healthy babies!

When we got this little 3-month-old girl, we knew she was HIV+, oxygen dependent, and not doing great. Her foster family was having trouble dealing with her and needed help. So she came to us. After a while here she was weaned off the oxygen and oh, she was lovely! Fat little cheeks and the most adorable smile every time you talked to her! She was so attentive and alert and she stole all our hearts! Then suddenly she was so very sick and we simply could not get her well. She wouldn't eat so we tube fed her and even then, it would not always stay down. Her temperature would sky-rocket and we would do everything to bring it down. We couldn't even hold her because it hurt her and she would moan terribly. I spent hours with her at the hospital trying to get them to care for her even though she was an abandoned HIV baby. Finally she was admitted, but within a week, she was gone. The AIDS had gone to her brain and the doctors said there was nothing left to do but make her comfortable. Her last few days she was in such pain and I knew she needed to just let go.

At first, it was a bit surreal. I didn't cry. She had gone to the hospital alive and I could still her smiling face from a month earlier! Then I went to take down her name card down from above her little cot and it felt like I had just ripped her away from us. I started crying uncontrolably. Sobbing on Mommy Thea's shoulder for the little life that had been with us for such a short time. I felt selfish because I knew she was in a glorious place and Jesus would take care of her better than we ever could! And she will never be in pain again! But somehow that doesn't stop the tears and the hurt.

Now we were all left with the terrible "WHY?" question. She was so small and innocent. Why did she have to suffer? And yet, it also made us realize she was the lucky one. She had a foster family who loved her and spent every second with her in the hospital. She had all the volunteers who loved her completely. From the time she was taken in as a new baby, she spent every minute of her 4 1/2 months of life being loved, adored, & spoiled! To us, she was as valuable as the next baby, however healthy (or not) they were! Millions of babies are suffering the same way as she did. They are dying--unloved and uncared for. Abandoned as worthless. Unwanted by the hospitals. And no one is there to notice. What an eye-opening thought.

Blessings to you all,
Jennifer

So all my problems were nil after that. They pretty much boiled down to where I put the tissue box.

Dutchess