Photo of the Week: Michael

A rare, and therefore precious, smile from Michael

Michael joined our Kazembe Orphanage family in September, 2012 after losing both his parents. He was only five months old.  Michael is a sweet kid, but he struggles with life sometimes. He often runs fevers and we've yet to discover what causes them. Outwardly he is healthy and well developed. I'm hoping that as he moves past his toddler years (he turns 3 in April) he'll settle in a bit and become more confident.

When I saw this photo, which was taken by Sarah (one of our volunteers), my heart rejoiced. 

One of our challenges in running this home is helping the kids' hearts heal after their losses. Even those that are so tiny when they arrive carry with them the scars of abandonment. Only God's love and our care can fully patch up those hurt places.

Michael is one of our many unsponsored children. In order for us to provide good care including nannies, food, and all that goes into living, we need $350 per child. You can become a part of the team that sponsors Michael and helps him grow up into an amazing young man for as little as $50 a month. Or you could meet his entire need. The sky is the limit!

A Very Special Child

Just over a week ago, as we sat in our living room studying the Bible for church, we got a message that a child had been brought to our door. This is a fairly normal event, but this was no ordinary child. We were told he was albino. I had never seen an albino baby before. I knew though that he would have challenges, and I wondered how we could help meet them.

I was so grateful that we had a doctor, from England, visiting us for a week. Once church was over we all trooped down to the front door to meet Benard, a sweet one year old boy.

He was sitting on the lap of a young lady who was apparently his aunt. His father and a couple other relatives were seated on our reception bench as well.

The first thing I noticed was that Benard was a really happy, and apparently healthy child. The second thing I noticed, was that he didn't make any eye contact with me. He didn't react at all when I took him into my arms. He didn't seem bothered at all to have a strange 'muzungu'* lady holding him. *muzungu = white person

His happy expressions never changed no matter what I said or did. I began to wonder if he could see or hear me. Additionally, his neck muscles were very underdeveloped, and when I sat him up he couldn't sit upright--looking more like a five month old than a 12 month old.

I handed Benard off to Dr. Alisdair and then returned to speak with his family. His mother had died 'of a headache' (perhaps malaria?) a month before which explained why he wasn't really sickly. At just over one year old, he was old enough to eat solids, which gave me hope for his survival. 

Based on what I'd observed so far, I asked Benard's family if they thought he could see and hear. They assured me he could, but I didn't put much stock in that because I felt they might just say what they thought I wanted to hear--thinking erroneously that I would reject a disabled child.

Leaving Tom to speak more with the family, I walked over to Dr. Alisdair and chatted with him. He was pleased to report that Benard's lungs and heart sounded good. This can be a problem with albino children, so that was good news. 

He then noted that Benard did not seem to be able to see or hear. He didn't react at all to motion near his eyes (though he blinked a bit at a camera's flash) and didn't respond at all to loud claps.

While not surprising, this was definitely an important revelation. 

Because Benard was, and is, facing such big challenges Tom and I decided to help Benard while still leaving him with his family. Their main concern was to be able to get him some sunscreen to protect his skin. We agreed to provide sunscreen if they would bring him every Monday so we can keep an eye on his health and help with some physical therapy. If the father was willing to do some piece work, we could help with clothing and/or food.

Aside from the huge responsibility we'd be taking on with a seriously disabled child, I also didn't want to move a child from an environment where he was obviously getting the care he needed when it would be so hard for him to understand. Everything would be different. 

The next day was the first Monday when we'd be helping Benard's family to learn how to do exercises to help him develop more. We also wanted to teach them how to give him textures to feel and hold since he couldn't see. 

Kathrin hadn't been around on Sunday when we all first met Benard, so I had briefed her on his condition and asked if she'd be willing to take care of his exercises each week and help to teach the family some skills. She agreed with enthusiasm. 

Monday morning, right at nine o'clock, Benard and his family arrived. Kathrin escorted them to the playroom and I joined them after a few minutes. 

Kathrin greeted me with these words: "I think he can hear!" She had noticed him flinch when our time clock in the reception clicked over to a new time. 

He seemed much more grumpy this morning. 

Kathrin handed him a toy and he reached right for it. He reached for it! What? He could see?? Sure enough, Kathrin took a colorful toy and Benard followed it with his eyes. 

We showed his father how to make a toy with a bottle and some stones and when he enthusiastically shook it near Benard's head, the poor baby jumped in fright. He could definitely hear!

If it weren't for the fact that it would be nearly impossible to do, we thought for sure Sunday's child had been swapped with another. His neck muscles were stronger, he sat perfectly and even got up on hands and knees for a bit. What??

I'm not a child development expert, but I'm wondering if there is some type of brain damage involved. His neck movements on Sunday reminded me of children with Cerebral Palsy. His personality was so different, I wondered if that was somehow connected. 

I look forward to continuing to work with Benard and to see how things go. Maybe we'll be able to help him from here, or perhaps God has a different plan. There might be a forever family out there that will be able to help with whatever challenges Benard is going to face along the way. 

How you can help: Pray for God's perfect plan for this little life. Pray we have wisdom as we help him. Benard needs strong sunscreen to protect him from the sun's rays since he has no melanin. It would be a nice thing to throw in a care package. Kathrin has arranged to get him some child-friendly sunglasses.

We'd like to help this family with some clothes (we gave them two hats to protect his head) and maybe basic food supplies should the father be willing to do his part. Perhaps you'd be wiling to help with this need? Pray that Benard's family will value him and do all that is needed to provide him with the fullest life possible.

Santa Does Cosplay?

Cosplay = Costume Play

One of my favorite traditions that we're starting this year is to have a box full of wrapped Christmas books. Each day a different child gets to choose and unwrap a 'new' story for me to read to them just before dinner.

A few days ago, Lizzie unwrapped Arthur's Christmas. Remember Arthur the anteater from PBS?

This particular story involves Arthur trying to find a present for Santa. He goes from store to store and keeps seeing Santa in different locations and particularly notices Santa in various restaurants. He eventually gets the idea that Santa obviously LOVES to eat, so he makes a few different dishes which he has cooked himself (with dubious success) to leave out for Santa. The ending of the story has him finding a note left by 'Santa' thanking him for the food, and mentioning his awesome sister, D.W.

I had forgotten how this particular story went and so as I read it I wondered how the kids would handle the idea that there could be more than one Santa.

I'm not a huge fan of perpetuating the myth of Santa although I do love the ideas of St. Nicholas and giving and sharing.

However, my husband and teenagers love the magic of Christmas and the fun that kids can get out of it all.

It's a fine line we walk.

Anyway, back to the story. So, the kids had noticed that the Santas in the story all had slightly different outfits. They wanted to know why the clothes were different. Then when one in particular was quite skinny they wanted to know why.

At the end when 'Santa' leaves a note, Johnny's eyes were big as he asked if Santa had really left the note. We talked about how D.W had been really nice to help out Arthur. But, they weren't ready to give up the idea that Santa had really been in Arthur's house.

When they again brought up the fact that the Santas in the story had worn different clothes I decided to discuss it a bit. I asked the kids if Santa was real or a character from a story. A character from a story they all agreed. (I'm not sure they actually understood what those words meant though)
 Then, I asked, when Peter dressed up like Obi Wan, or Chola dressed up like Batman at Halloween, were they really those people or just wearing a costume? They laughed and agreed they were just dressing up.

So, I said, sometimes people like to dress up in costumes.

Johnny's eyes got huge. I was ready for the penny to drop, and truthfully not sure I wanted it to.

"So, Santa likes to dress up like Santa?!?"

Ummm, yeah......that's it. Story time's over!


Exactly Three Years Ago: A Christmas Card

Friday Brings a Big Surprise

How this can possibly be Friday? Even my kids are confused. Where did the week go??

The week got off to a rocky start when I was knocked flat by a stomach virus. It was violent!
Tuesday I was shaky and once again relieved I work at home. I could work for an hour or so, and then collapse for an hour or two. Hooray for working at home!

Tuesday and Wednesday were my two teaching days. I do the training and teaching of the nannies and staff members on Tuesday and then on Wednesday I teach a Bible study to four of the nannies who have shown special interest.

Those are some of my favorite hours of the week. Even my physical weakness was set aside for that time.

Thursday was spent working on things I should have done on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.

This brought us to Friday. Today. This morning.

One of the first things I was told by our handyman this morning was that a baby had been brought to the orphanage by her aunt. My heart sank because we just don't have any beds open.

The new boys' cottage is nearly ready but we are waiting on delivery of the aluminum roofing sheets to cover the roof. Since the rains have started we urgently need the roof to be done before we can move the boys in. Unfortunately, the roofing sheets are stuck on a truck somewhere between Lusaka and here.

So, when this new baby showed up at the door I didn't even want to see her. I knew my heart would break in two.

Upon hearing she was over one year old I encouraged the aunt to take the child to the Social Welfare office to apply for assistance with milk or food. Since this wasn't a tiny baby I felt she could eat and do alright.

A couple hours later as I helped Troy with his math lesson, Tom told me the lady had brought the baby back again. This time she had brought a letter from the local clinic which stated that the baby was severely malnourished and without our help would most likely die.

Now I had to see the baby. I couldn't avoid it.
 
I walked out to our driveway and came face to face with the sweetest little girl. She has the most amazing little eyes.

 Maggie's mother died on Saturday and her father died a couple years ago. I was originally told she was just over a year old. The letter from the clinic listed her as 19 months old. But, her paperwork (the Under-5 card which is a weight and immunization record) shows her to be 2 years old this month!

Even her aunt was shocked by this revelation. Maggie's family lived a couple hours north of Kazembe and only moved down here last week as the mother's health was failing rapidly. Maggie has eight brothers and sisters. No one really knew much about this tiny little girl.

The first thing that hit me was how swollen she is. Those chipmunk cheeks are not healthy. They are caused by edema from Kwashiorkor which is a type of malnourishment. Her hair was beautifully braided, but that didn't hide how sparse and orange tinted it was--also a classic sign of malnourishment.

You can see how fragile her little neck is. Because she is so weak she can sit up, and (I've been told) crawl, but she can't yet walk. As I stroke her back gently, her bones feel as fragile as a bird.

The moment I took Maggie into my arms, after a tiny bit of fussing, she snuggled right into my neck. She is such a good little girl who seems genuinely grateful for loving arms.

I've loved the kids' reactions to Maggie joining our family. The oldest children looked at her with very big eyes as I explained that her mommy and daddy had died and so Tom and I would be her mommy and daddy now and they would be her brothers and sisters. They all solemnly greeted her with: "Hello, Maggie".

Peter came up to her at snack time and stroked her leg saying, "nice, nice", as if she were a puppy or kitten. Then he looked up at me and asked, "where did you find it?". 

Because she is so, so tiny--only 6 kilos (13 pounds)--and is so behind developmentally, we wondered if perhaps she had come with the wrong paperwork. However, she has a full mouth of teeth.

Pray for her health. Her HIV status is still unknown. We'll be getting a test done as soon as possible so we can pursue the right treatment. In the meantime, we're treating her for the malnourishment with a special milk recipe and taking care of any hidden infections with a broad spectrum antibiotic.

This afternoon when she woke up after her nap on my bed, she was just lying there with her eyes open, looking around the room. I called to her softly saying, "Maggie". She said, "hmmm?" and turned to look at me. At that moment I realized how old she really is. She is old enough to be aware of her name. She is old enough to realize she is in a new situation. She is old enough to miss her mom. And at that point my heart broke completely and I wept. Pray for her to feel our love so her heart can heal.


You might be wondering how we solved the bed situation.We have temporarily moved two of our oldest boys into a room that used to be used for staff members and that has a bunk bed in it. It is right next door to a room where a nanny sleeps so they will be close to help if they need it.
We moved two of the 5 year old girls over to the preschool bedroom, and this freed up two cribs--one for Michael, who at six months had well outgrown his cradle, and for Maggie.

We hope to have the five oldest boys moved into their cottage soon. Pray for this!

Denny's Growing Up

Ever since Denny came to stay with us over a year ago, he has grown so much. It hasn't been an easy road, but we have had some wonderful victories also.

I've been a bit concerned about Denny's development for a while. His physical development is still a bit delayed, but I've been more concerned with his mental and emotional development. 

Denny quickly figured out that Peter is the one to copy since 'he's got it figured out'. Peter has incredible self-confidence and moves around the orphanage like he owns the place. He's also so darn cute that he gets a fair amount of attention.

Having seen this, Denny began copying Peter's every move. One day Peter walked up to me, giggled, performed a prat fall and then giggled again. Denny immediately did the exact same thing down to the tone of the giggle. 

He never came up to me on his own, but if Peter came up and told me he loved me, Denny would do the exact same thing. 

I worried that he wasn't developing his own thoughts and processes. Mimicking can be a sign of a developmental disability.

I quizzed the volunteers as they worked with him, asking if he communicated at all, and they reassured me that he did--though not as much as the others--but I had yet to see it for myself.

Then, one night, a few days after holding a birthday party for four of the children, I walked down to the nursery to check on the kids as they prepared for bed. 

Denny saw me from across the room and called out, "Mommy, I want a Happy Birthday!". I nearly did a happy dance right then and there. He not only formed a complete sentence on his own, but he acknowledged a want and a wish and then communicated it to me! Picture me grinning widely as I type this. 

Every child that comes to stay with us brings their own set of emotional, mental and physical needs. Please continue to pray for us as we meet those needs to the best of our ability!

(Almost) Exactly One Year Ago: Oh, Johnny

(Almost) Exactly Two Years Ago: Chola in the Big City

The Other Side of Christmas Week

This is a long story--it will be in two parts.
 
The week leading up to Christmas is supposed to be full of fun. There should be gift wrapping, and hiding or piling presents under the tree.

There should be cookie baking and decorating. The scent of cinnamon and cloves should be wafting through the air.

There should be "tales of the Christmases long long ago".

Sadly, for our family here in Africa, this wasn't the case. Tuesday morning, December 20th, I realized that two of our children who seemed to have been battling some type of stomach bug were not doing well at all. Gladys had been unwell for some time--she was wasting away--but we couldn't find the cause. We gave her extra food, changed her diet, coaxed her to eat just a bit more, treated her with antibiotics, took her to the clinic, gave her vitamins, but she was really listless. We cuddled her close, and gave her rehydration drinks, but she just got worse. After failing to get an IV started with the local clinic on Monday, I sat up all night feeding her rehydration fluid. She took in the amount of fluid she should have, and didn't lose much, but she still didn't improve.

Joseph had also been troubled with a funny tummy. But, rather than bouncing back after electrolyte laden drinks and extra care, he got worse.

Tuesday I realized we would have to take a trip to the hospital. This is not the no-brainer it would be in the U.S or Europe. Many times there aren't even doctors in the hospitals. Since this was right before Christmas, this was an even greater possibility.

I also had to pack carefully. The hospital only has the very basic of equipment and very few staff members. I have to prepare for days ahead and think of all eventualities. I needed clothes and diapers and food and bottles for at least a couple days. I needed to pack dish soap and a bottle brush to be able to clean the bottles since the hospital is an hour away and I wouldn't be able to dash home to do dishes. Plus, there would be no nurse to look after the sick children to give me a break. I would need to be there the entire time.

Picture a Civil War hospital from Gone with the Wind (only with IV antibiotics and plastic bags) and you can imagine what I was taking the children to.

Thankfully, we found the hospital fully staffed (by Zambian standards) and even the District Head of Health was there. As soon as I got the two babies into the children's ward, nurses and doctors tried to start an IV. They succeeded with Joseph fairly quickly, but Gladys' veins were just too small.

Since she was still able to drink, the docs suggested we just keep up with the bottle feeding every 15-20 minutes. This I did. Meanwhile, Joseph began to look a bit better with the IV drip going.

Jasmine accompanied me to the hospital since it could be challenging for me to handle two sick babies at once. We were put into the general children's ward. I had asked for a private room, but there were none available. We shared the eight bed room with three other patients and their families. There was a 6 month old baby one bed over that was coughing and gasping for air--obviously a bad case of pneumonia. "That baby is going to die," was Jasmine's comment. My heart broke that my sixteen year old daughter who should be out enjoying her first car, perhaps her first boyfriend, trying out makeup and new dance moves, has seen death up close and personal enough times to recognize its face.

Later that night, as we continued to watch over the babies, Gladys' breathing changed and she got very cold. Immediately we asked for hot water bottles and when there were none to be found, we poured hot water into any container we could find and I held them close to her body as we cuddled on a chair. She was still able to swallow, but had lost the desire to suck or drink from a bottle. I continued to pour tiny amounts of fluid into her mouth ever 15 minutes.

As all of this was going on, I noticed that the baby two beds over had grown very quiet. Her mom noticed around the same time, and a nurse came over to check. That sweet baby was gone. Immediately the mom began to weep and wail with loud cries. All of us in the room felt her pain. For two hours she cried aloud and spoke to the baby and moved restlessly around the room. It was one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever seen or been a part of. The father had quietly left the room and returned two hours later with a taxi driver so they could take the baby home. As sad as I was, I was also glad not to have to listen to her cry anymore--it was exhausting--and yes, I feel badly for feeling that way.

A couple more hours passed. I continued to push the fluids and adjust the hot water 'bottles' to keep Gladys warm. She had warmed up and was resting quietly. Jasmine had gone to sleep in one of the hospital beds getting some well deserved rest since it was now the early hours of the morning.  
About this time my friend Debbie popped up on my Blackberry Messenger. I was so glad to have a friend to talk to at that very moment. We chatted about my U.S kids, a recent mission trip they'd taken together, and various other light topics. It was a great distraction as I dealt with the fact that someone's precious baby had just died and I was holding the fragile life of another in my arms.

Gladys had fallen asleep, so clutching my phone in my hand, I climbed up onto the hospital bed and cuddled with Gladys. It was just after four in the morning and I'd been awake for nearly 48 hours. Without realizing it, I fell asleep still holding Gladys. I awoke to the doctor entering the room. Immediately alert, I began briefing him on Gladys and the changes I'd seen, and what treatments had been given. It was then I realized that Gladys was not breathing. 

Glancing at my phone, I saw that I had been asleep for only 15 minutes. In that short time, Gladys had passed from my arms to His. I was really sad. and disappointed. and confused. Whatever bacteria or virus had attacked her was just too strong. The nurse wrapped her carefully in a sheet and carried her away. I would have loved to have just lain down and given into my exhaustion and grief, but there was another baby--little Joseph, who was still very sick and needed my attention.

Come back tomorrow to read part two.

Meg wrote a beautiful post with her memories of Gladys. Please go check it out and take a moment to get to know this precious child who lived with us too briefly.

The Magic of Christmas

Christmas Day we started the day early by holding a party for the kids at 10:30 in the morning. After all the suspense building through December, we knew the kids couldn't wait any longer.

I started off by reminding the kids what Christmas was all about and how we gave gifts to honor God's greatest gift to us. 

My kids really love the 'magic' and fun that surrounds Santa and they're excited to share that with the little kids.I told the kids that Jesus lets Santa help bring presents to them.A happy compromise? I don't know.....but it worked for us right now.

 

Timmy then told the kids that we had to call Santa to come with the gifts by reading Twas the Night before Christmas. When he got to the part at the end "....and to all a goodnight!" Santa burst through the door carrying a huge sack of presents.

Moriah took off running to the other side of the room in fright, but she was easily calmed and was more than happy to go up to get her gift once she figured out what was going on.

Janet--4 years old

Chola--6 years old

Lizzie--23 months

Ernest--5 years old

Johnny--5 years old

4.

 

 

The kids then dug into their presents, ripping paper off and pulling out their collection of toys. Each child received a Beanie baby or two, and a car or small toy or doll depending on if they were a boy or girl. 

Grace (9 mos.) was more interested in the tag than the toy

After the gifts, out came the party elements: streamers, silly string, party poppers, Christmas crackers, candy and cookies--twenty children all strung out on sugar and Christmas joy is a sight to see. 

I hope you all had as much fun in your holiday parties as we had at ours.

Last Year' s Christmas: Christmas is for Kids
Exactly Two Years Ago: A Message from Baby New Year
 

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner?

First, I'll tell you who is NOT coming to dinner. It's Tom, Timmy, Jasmine, Troy and Elias. They are all stranded in Mansa after today's shopping trip because the car broke down.

As far as we can tell from preliminary inspections, it has something to do with the gear box. The clutch is fine. This has happened once before. One of the many pitfalls of potholes.

Tom and team are holed up in a hotel and we're praying that the mechanic--I hate to call him a bush mechanic, but that's the truth of the matter--will not only quickly locate the exact problem, but also find replacement parts. Remember, we are not near any large cities. There are no auto repair shops. No auto parts stores. Just men with some experience working on the side of the road.

Even if a part is located, it is most likely an all day job because the car basically has to be dismantled to get at the part of the engine where the gear box is. I'm praying it is done by the afternoon tomorrow early enough that Tom won't have to drive home in the dark.

To any would-be thieves reading this.....Tom may be gone--but his shotgun is right here next to me.

I'm not entirely alone anyway. Aside from the 22 babies and children, and the 2 nannies sleeping over at night, I'll have someone else keeping me company tonight.

If you follow Kazembe Orphanage on Facebook, you've probably already guessed where I'm going with this.....

Meet our newest baby girl!

She's so new that we haven't even named her yet.

Baby Girl was born on October 11 and her mom died immediately following the delivery from hemorrhaging--at the exact same clinic where Joseph was born and where his mom suffered the same fate. Baby Girl came to the orphanage October 13 and I was told by the relatives that she hadn't been fed at all yet. Nearly 2 days old and not a sip of anything to drink. Not only that, she was bundled to within and inch of her life and was all sweaty. Already she was showing signs of dehydration. I could not believe it.

Now that she's been fed properly, all dehydration symptoms have vanished. She is now just a normal little newborn baby. She has an infection in her eyes--probably due to being exposed to bacteria at birth--but otherwise she seems healthy. More good news--her mom was tested for HIV just a couple weeks ago and the result was negative. No HIV! Let the happy dance commence!

Please pray that Baby Girl settles in well. Pray  that she stays healthy and grows strong.

Please pray for our car to be repaired at a minimum of expense and time.

Please pray for all our continued protection. 

Thanks!

Exactly Two Years Ago: Pardon Me This Moment

Our New Baby Boy

 Wednesday a group of four people visited the orphanage to tell me about a 2-day-old baby who had lost its mother during childbirth. I sent them home with a baby bottle and a tin of formula until I could pass by later in the week to see the baby myself.  They told me the name of their village and gave me a phone number. This was the only 'address' I had.

When I set out for shopping on Friday, at the back of my mind was that later in the day I would be meeting a tiny, little baby. I had to protect my heart. I'm a sucker for bitty babies. While this is a good thing since my life's work is caring for babies, I have to be careful not to let it cloud my judgement.

After wrapping up the shopping and errands, we started off for home. I knew the general area of the village so we drove slowly looking for a group of people and a newborn baby. Lo and behold, it turned out that the family we were looking for lives directly opposite one of our Peace Corps friends. This turned out to be a good thing.

As soon as I climbed out of our LandCruiser I was surrounded by a group of about 20-30 people. One of them was holding a huge bundle of blankets that contained a tiny, little baby. It took a good bit of unwrapping of layers before I could even look at the baby's body to determine the physical condition. The first thing I looked for was the umbilical cord. I didn't find it--I found a fully healed navel. 

"This is not a 3 day old baby"! 

"Yes, you are correct. The baby is five days old. No, one week old. No, wait, the mother died last Thursday." 

So, that made the baby 8 days old.

I tried to make sense of which family members belonged to the little guy but eventually gave up and drove over to the nearby clinic to look over the paperwork for the mom. What I found out there was that the baby's mom had died of hemorrhaging. One very good bit of news was that she had tested negative for HIV. That means her baby stands a really good chance of making it. He also had a decent birth weight of 2.9 kg. (@6.5 lbs).

  Looking over the paperwork did raise a few questions. The father had told me that aside from this newborn baby, they had a 2 year old and a five year old. The clinic paperwork showed three pregnancies in 1996, 2000, and 2002. 

Finally, deciding I'd gathered enough information, I went back to the family and spoke with them about our foster program and made sure they understood that we would be taking responsibility for the baby until he is 18 years old and finished with his education.

After this conversation, I went over to speak with our Peace Corps friend. She confirmed the story about the mom, but added some extra details. Apparently, this young woman (in her early 30s) had 11 children. The first birth was in 1996. So, in the last 15 or so years, this woman gave birth 11 times. No wonder she was exhausted. Poor woman!  Our friend was very glad that we had been able to come get the baby. The father of this large family is just a farmer. He barely grows enough food to feed his family; taking care of a tiny baby without a mom is really difficult.

Bottom line: We now have a new baby!

Joseph is now 9 days old. He is quite thin--he only weighs 2.5 kgs (5.5 lbs)--since he wasn't fed properly for the first week of his life. He also has some type of bacterial infection--possibly staph. Because he didn't get regular feedings Joseph is not good at drinking from a bottle. He tires quickly when sucking and forgets to swallow allowing the milk to run back out of his mouth. 

We are giving him daily antibiotic shots and feeding him every two hours. He is getting better each time at drinking.

Any baby, under the age of 6 months, here in rural Africa, is quite fragile. Expectant mothers don't get the nutrition and care they need. Hygiene is poor during and after birth and there is so much waiting to attack their delicate immune systems--even if they do manage to dodge the HIV threat.

Please pray for Joseph as we work to get him fully adjusted, bonded and healthy. He is a sweet, and handsome little guy and I'm already a little bit in love.

Fab Friday Foto: Late Breaking News

This just in.......

It's a Boy!

  

Details at Eleven (AKA tomorrow's blog)

Exactly One Year Ago: Boss Woes

SIMC: Birthdays, Birthdays, and more Birthdays!

With 21 kids in residence, it's bound to be someone's birthday nearly every week. We had a team of volunteers out here this week so I asked them to bring a few presents for four of the kids so we could hold a joint party for them. 

With all we had going on we didn't get to hold a proper party but we did serve cake after dinner one night. 

For reasons that I'll have to tell you about another time, our cake turned out lopsided. We began calling it a Dr. Suess cake. Then since we had some colored sprinkles provided by our visitors and it began looking better. Then we pulled out the birthday candles (also sweetly provided by our guests) and by happy coincidence they were perfect for the cake. Starburst candies (also provided by....yep, you got it!) gave the finishing touch.

 Peter was first up--he turns 2 on August 27. He was so excited he kept patting his cheeks and grinning from ear to ear. After I helped him blow out his candle (we lit one for each of the kids), he was presented with the little tow truck from the movie Cars. He loves cars and trucks (I'll have to tell you a story about that soon) and so he loves, loves, loves his new toy.

Denny was next. He turned two on August 11. He was quite uncertain about it all. I helped him blow out his candle and he also got a Cars character. He got the race car--Lightning McQueen, I think.... Afterward he went and sat down and let Nathan play with it. I think all the singing and excitement was a bit much for him.

Next, Elias had his birthday song. For his present, he got a supply of art things--markers and pads of paper to nurture his artistic side. Look at Johnny pursing his lips--practicing for his turn. :)

In the middle of singing 'Happy Birthday' to Johnny, the power went off but we lit his candle, sang to him and then lit more candles so we could see to cut and eat the cake. Just a normal day in Africa.

Now, hop over to Unknown Mami's blog and see what's happening in other cities around the world.

A Boy Named Denny

Once upon a time there was a little boy named Denny. He was not a happy boy. Many days of hunger and malnourishment had left him swollen from head to toe. He hadn't even learned how to walk yet, though he was well past the normal age, for his legs were weak and spindly.

Before too long, after many meals and lots of love, Denny began to stand up and walk. He still required a lot of assistance. This was partly due to many many months of being carried and partly due to an insecurity.

His mama knew he could do it though, and fashioned a harness out of cloth so that those who looked after him could hook the cloth below his arms and he could see what it felt like to balance on his own and begin to move on his own power without the hand-holding. This went well for a time, but soon Denny got tired. He didn't want to walk on his own. He wanted to be held.

So, one day on the way to the lunch table, Denny had had enough. He plopped himself down on the floor and refused to walk another step. All efforts to encourage, to aid with the harness, were rebuffed. Denny was having none of it.

His mama was sympathetic to his feelings, being well acquainted with the sometimes sin/sometimes virtue of stubbornness. But she also held firm to the adage: he who does not work, does not eat. Denny needed to work for his supper by showing a little effort in the walking department.

Denny was not happy with this pronouncement and proceeded to let everyone in the vicinity know with loud cries and wails. Every few minutes the deal was explained to him again--walk on your own and you get to eat, and every few minutes he cried louder with rebellion. 

An hour passed and a very tired Denny was carried to his bed with the promise that he would have a chance to try again at snack time.

Sadly, snack time began in much the same way, but after another 30 minutes of crying, Denny's mama decided to meet him halfway. His highchair was moved 5 feet closer. He also gave in and consented to walk with the aid of a nanny's hand to his chair. There he ate his lunch and snack together. Not a completely satisfactory ending but an ending nonetheless.

But, what do you imagine happened at the very next meal?

A miracle! Denny got to his feet and walked straight to his chair without a bit of fuss. And every meal since then has had the same result. He is walking all over the place now. 

What a guy!

Grace

Grace came to live with us last Wednesday. Her mom passed away in a mission hospital a couple hours away from here. According to the family there was 'something wrong with her stomach'. This is a common issue with taking in babies from the village. There really aren't accurate medical records, or even information given to the families, so we never know what we might be taking on.

The good news is that according to the family, Grace's mother was tested for HIV and did not have the virus. We will, of course, test Grace anyway to be sure.

Overall, Grace's health is fine. She has a touch of colic, which we've been treating with homeopathic chamomile,  and her tear ducts seem to be blocked causing her eyes to water almost constantly. Otherwise, she is a pretty good baby.

As is our policy, when tiny babies come to stay with us, we take them into our home (rather than placing them directly into the nursery) so we can observe them more closely and allow them to bond with me. I can work to get them on a good schedule before sending them fulltime to the nursery. Grace has been spending her nights in the nursery so I can get my rest. We already pay someone to be on duty at that time--no sense in two of us missing our sleep.

Now, with Grace there is a bit of a mystery. We've had mysteries surrounding orphaned children before. There have been mysteries as to what caused the death of their parent(s), or whether the child was even an orphan. Another common mystery we encounter is how old the child or baby really is.

With one of our other little boys, we were told by his grandmother that he was 2 years old but he behaved much older. He even, on one of the rare outings to town, offered to show the nannies the way to his home. Some of our staff members insist that he is older than we were told because they were neighbors with his family and know when he was born. 

You might wonder what would lead a grandmother to lie about the age of her grandchild. Well, we only take in children that are 2 years and younger. If he was actually 3 years old we might not have accepted him. With both his parents dead, his grandmother was most likely desperate. 

Because he has HIV, he is very small...more like a 4 year old than a 6 year old. For this reason, we have stuck with his grandmother's version which makes him 5 years old. No reason to give even more of a complex.

Anyway, back to Grace:

When I asked her grandparents what Grace's birthday was, they first said March 15 and then amended it to April 15. Since she looked, to me, older than 3 weeks old, I asked my translator to ask the family how old she was--thinking that they might find that easier than remembering a date. They went round and round a bit and then the translator turned to me and said, "She'll be one month on May 15". So, I didn't really get a satisfactory answer.

To me, she is more like a seven week old baby (8 weeks as of yesterday). She can hold her head up fairly well. When I place her on her tummy, she lifts her head a couple inches off the blanket and turns her head from side to side. She also tracks items with her eyes. Look at the photo up above, where she is sitting on my lap, she was following every movement of the camera. She also smiles a lot.

Unfortunately, Grace has no teeth to check her age by--and she's not a horse anyway. So, there goes that option.....

We may never solve this mystery, and in a year or even less, a difference of 4 weeks in this baby's age will be nothing at all. But for now, it's a little puzzling. 

With the information you've been given, how would you solve this mystery? How old do you think Grace is?

 

Challenges of Parenting Orphans

I'm always excited when something by the Vitafamiliae blog pops up in my reader. Lora Lynn is such an inspirational person and I've been following her story of adopting a toddler from Uganda with bated breath. 

A few days ago she posted an article called Adoption and Anger and I cheered. I am so grateful that she addressed this issue. 

Basically, she writes about how adopted children deal with trust issues and as they are going through the process, the entire thing can be very frustrating for parents (and caregivers). 

Here is an excerpt: 

There’s a side to adoption that no one really warned us about.  We were prepared for attachment issues, for trust issues, food hoarding, lashing out.  But no one really told us that there’d be parental anger.

Because of her life situation, Mira is a fighter.  Her survival instincts are finely honed.  While she attached to us right away, getting her to trust us has been more difficult. .....

.......I liken the feelings of frustration we have to the first few months with a newborn.  The baby is well-fed, always being held, and is kept warm and safe.  Yet they scream bloody murder when you change their diaper, even though you’re doing them a favor.  Or they just scream because they can.  They’re not entirely sure you’re coming back with food.  As a parent, you’re exhausted and frustrated.

But you love your babies and you stick with it and eventually they learn to believe you’ll show up with food or you’ll get them out of their crib.  They learn not to fight the diaper changes and the nap times.

Mira is still like a newborn. And sometimes it frustrates us and makes us angry.  We know it’s just an issue of time, but it doesn’t make it any less anger-inducing in the heat of the moment.

You can read the full article here.In the comments, Lora Lynn makes it clear that she and her husband experienced the emotions of anger and frustration but did not give in to those feelings.

I completely understand where she is coming from and it is wonderful to have someone document this difficult transition period with a new baby in such an articulate way. 

I've seen this happen over and over with the new babies and toddlers we take in. They have to go through such a process of building trust and realizing that we love them and won't hurt or abandon them. During that time, especially if the child is sick, it can be very draining emotionally. You can feel like giving up and not doing anything when 'obviously the child doesn't even appreciate it anyway'. At these times, I'm grateful we have a large enough staff that everyone gets the chance for a break and can take time to step back from the situation if they get too tired or frustrated.

I'm still learning as I go. God didn't reveal the whole picture to me when he asked us to do this job, and in some ways I'm glad. I depend on Him for so much. And, you know, he is so good about bringing people or information my way that helps me to know how to better serve the children He's given us. 

For example, Denny is doing so much better since he came to live with us just over a month ago, and the way I know he's doing better physically, is because he is now starting to behave like a normal 20 month old child. That means he now feels comfortable enough with us to demand more food or throw temper tantrums. So, he gets to move on to the next level of recovery which includes more love and added discipline. It's not easy but it is so necessary. 

Pray for us as we work not only with the physical bodies of rescued children but their hearts and minds as well.