My Boy S.

Baby S was born on September 24, 2014. We don't know a ton about his birth story, but we do know that his young mother loved him very much. Soon after birth she realized that S was getting sick, and his body wasn't working quite right. She did the right thing and traveled into Cap Haitien to take him  to Justinien hospital where she hoped they could help him. At the hospital, they determined that S had an imperforate anus (There was no hole for stool to leave his body) and needed surgery to create an ostomy (an opening from the inside-out so that stool can leave his body). The doctors there performed the surgery that saved his little life.

When baby S was about 6 weeks old the hospital contacted COTP.  At this time, the hospital had lost contact with his mom. Baby S needed people who could care for him and manage his special medical needs. Our social worker (Carla), adoption worker (Antonio), and nurse (me) headed into Cap to meet Baby S. After meeting him, we felt that COTP had the resources to meet his special needs and agreed to bring him to COTP as soon as we were able.

So, we started making plans to foster baby S. Dieulene (our Haitian nurse) and I pulled the boxes labeled "Colostomy supplies" off the shelves of our medical depot. We didn't have a ton of supplies, but we had enough to get by for a while. On November 4, 2014 we brought baby S home to COTP.

Together, the Haitian nurses, nannies, and I learned how to do his dressing changes, dealt with a lot of leaking poop, and watched our boy grow. And a few weeks later, a friend of one of our missionaries donated a TON of colostomy supplies to us that were exactly what we needed for baby S.

We knew that a team of pediatric surgeons from the D.C. area was coming to our local hospital in early December. So, I began to correspond with them about S's story. In December of 2014, Dr. Brendan operated on baby S and created an anal opening for him. (A big thank you to Dr. Rob, Dr. Brendan and their team!) Following the surgery, nurse Dieulene and I started having daily bonding time with S......AKA we did daily rectal dilations. These dilations would help to create a usable anus. We did this procedure daily, with the goal in mind that S would some day have a final surgery to reverse the ostomy and enable him to pass stool normally. Baby S absolutely HATED it, but we knew it was worth it.

During all of this, COTP's adoption and social workers were working hard to locate S's mother. They had a little information about her from S's medical file at the hospital. They were able to find her and share the happy news that baby S was alive and well! She was SO happy and she began making trips to COTP to visit S. Because of S's special medical needs, his mom was unable to care for him in her home until after he had his final surgery. So, she continued to visit and get to know her son.

In December of 2015, the same pediatric surgeons returned and S got the final surgery he needed. I don't think we had ever been so happy about a poopy diaper! This meant that S no longer had any special medical needs keeping him from living with his mom and Haitian family. S's mom came and stayed with him at COTP for about a week and helped him transition out of foster care and back into his forever family.

I still can't help but smile when I think about S's story (And I think of it often). The sweet reunion between him and his mom was priceless. And it's exactly what COTP is all about. His reunion was a process, and it didn't move as fast as we had hoped. But, God was there EVERY step of the way. Everything that S needed, God provided. He is faithful.

As missionaries, I think we are suppose to love ALL the children and not choose favorites. But, S became my favorite. He was my boy. I carried him around in a sling, He went to church with me, we went on moto-rides to the hospital for his check-ups, and his nannies would joke that he was my "boyfriend."

Today, S's picture is the background on my phone. And there's a picture of him and I on my locker at work. Sometimes people ask if he's my baby, and I usually say "No, but I would've taken him home with me in a heartbeat." I love S, and I would have loved to keep him forever. But, I love God's plan more. You should see him and his mom together :)

Please join us in speaking up for children with special needs like baby S. Tell their stories. Advocate for the kids with special needs in your life. Donate and help COTP continue to meet the needs of children with special needs.
www.childrenofthepromise.org/speak-up

Children of the Promise has given explicit permission for the posting of photos on this site.  Photos taken of children in the care of Children of the Promise are not to be posted publicly without explicit permission given by Children of the Promise.

Juice

I love my job. One of my most favorite parts of my job is getting to bring tiny babies home with me. When we admit new babies, one of us International staff members usually cares for them for the first night or two. This allows us to get a good assessment of their needs and abilities so that we can make a good plan of care for them. We really covet this time to get to know each of our kids, and sometimes it extends longer than a few days.

               

       On May 12 we admitted “Juice.” Shortly after bringing him home to my house, there was some confusion with his name that produced the nickname “Juice,” and it just stuck. At 6 months old he weighed 5.5 pounds and was struggling to gain weight at home. Mom was not able to help, and it was becoming difficult for dad to take care of Juice and his tiny twin sister all by himself. Dad had been bringing the twins to our gate for a few weeks prior to his admission, and the babies were in our formula program. Unfortunately, in between appointments with us Juice’s sister passed away at a hospital. Dad was very concerned about Juice, and didn’t want to lose him as well. This led us to decide to admit him into our care for one month so he could gain weight and work on getting stronger. This also gave dad time to grieve his daughter’s death and to develop a good plan for caring for Juice once he brought him back home.

                
 I fell in love with Juice’s tiny self that first night. And since he was only admitted for one month, I decided I wanted him to live with me for the whole month. Juice didn’t know how to drink from a bottle very well; it would take one hour to get him to drink 2 ounces of formula. So, I spent the first few days doing scheduled feedings every 2 hours and teaching him how to suck from a nipple. He did get the hang of it, and eventually got to the point of easily drinking 5 ounces at a time. I carried Juice around in a sling and kept him at work with me until he was drinking well enough to stay with the nannies during the hours I worked. I took him to birthday parties, to church, to do Pilates, to hang out with my friends on the compound. I loved walking over to his room after work and seeing his eyes light up as I reached down to pick him up. He loved to lie across my knees and sway back and forth, suck on his fingers, listen to music, and nap on the tile floor. I got pretty attached to my little Juicer.

        
 Every Friday his dad would come to visit. And there was never a doubt in my mind that his dad loves him. It was the cutest sight to watch dad hold Juice close to his face and sing to him. Each visit I would hand dad a bottle and we would sit together and work on feeding Juice his whole bottle. By the end of June Juice was bigger, stronger, and ready to go back home with his family. His papa came to pick him up on June 25; he weighed in at 8.4 pounds. After prayers, singing, and well-wishes, I choked back tears as we waved good-bye to them.

                

 This past Tuesday Juice’s mom brought him back for his scheduled appointment with us. We were so happy to learn that his mom is also invested in caring for him now. Juice had gained weight at home and looked so content lying in his moms lap. I did hold him for a bit and get some snuggle time :) Juice will continue to be in our Formula program and have appointments with us for the next few months.

Dear Miss Debbie

Dear Miss Debbie,

When Isaiah talks about “His girl,” he’s talking about you. Everyone tells me you two were inseparable. I don’t ever want that to change; you will always be his first love. You raised up a good man; he treats others with respect, is disciplined, follows Jesus, stands up for justice, and is a darn-good linebacker.

He wasn’t supposed to lose his momma at age 22.

I had been saying for a while that the next plane ticket I purchase would be to Virginia. I was right, but definitely not expecting my first trip “home” to be so soon. I knew when I saw the “Call me ASAP” message on my phone that something was seriously wrong. I could hear the fear in his voice as he repeated your doctor’s words. I knew I needed to go.

My stomach was in knots on the plane. I was so eager to see Isaiah; it had been a long six months apart. But, I was nervous about meeting you. Nervous about your health and what I was about to walk into. When I sat down in the chair beside your bed and you looked at me and said “Hi Sweetie,” those knots in my gut calmed down a little bit. And when we sat in the room alone together and talked about your flowers and the boy we both love so much; I knew I was in the right place.

You wanted two things: your baby and your home. I’ll never forget the look of peace I saw in your eyes as we settled you into our own living room and cut the hospital bracelets off your wrists. And my heart melted a little bit each time I caught Isaiah whispering in your ear, holding your hand, kissing your forehead, or reading to you. My heart is so grateful for those moments you two were able to share together.

I quickly learned the ins-in-outs of being your nurse Em. Your friends and family told me you were a diva. And they were right. You liked to watch Judge Judy at 6PM. You only liked to sip water from your red bedazzled tumbler. I was only to use the Olay body soap with the yellow lid for your bath. You liked your wedge pillow under your knees during the day. And I couldn’t forget the incense on your bed-side table.  

I’m usually not an emotional girl, but you got me. I cried the day Isaiah, Grandma Frances, and I gathered around your bed and talked about his childhood.  I cried the night we said our final goodbyes in the living room. I cried as I watched your life celebration video and saw your momma’s tears. I cried when the pastor talked about how proud he is of the son you devoted your life to raising.

I cry for all the time I won’t get to spend with you. For all the questions I won’t get to ask you. For all the “I’m at my wits-end with you son, please talk some sense into him” phone- calls I won’t get to make. For all the celebrations and the sad days you won’t be here for.

You made me promise that I wouldn’t stop for you. You wanted us to keep moving forward with life and pursuing our careers. And it's hard, but here I am, back in Haiti taking care of my babies. 

 I love you Miss Debbie, 

 Em

"The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail." Isaiah 58:11

Road Trip: Haiti Style

Google tells me there are roughly 156 miles between Cap Haitien and Haiti's capitol, Port-Au-Prince (PAP). This "short" distance ended up being a little less than a 6-hour road trip across Haitian Roads.

It all started with EEGs. Two of our kiddos needed EEGs, and the only EEG clinic in Haiti is located in PAP. A baby from our Medika Mamba program was scheduled to receive a free surgery at a hospital in PAP. And, our adoption worker, Antonio, needed to make a trip to the city. So, to save money on bus and plane tickets, it was decided that we would take our van.
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The EEG appointments and surgery consult were scheduled for Monday, October 20th. So, we booked a couple rooms at a guest house and left after church on Sunday. There were 9 people in the van; Rikerns our driver, Antonio, a 5 year old, a 2 year old, myself, a nanny, the nanny's adult daughter (we picked her up along the way), Mamba baby, and his mom.

The trip started pretty uneventfully. We strapped our 2 kids into car seats and I even managed to catch an hour of sleep! Then, we picked up the nanny's daughter. The two of them proceeded to hold a nearly 2 hour, animated, 3-way phone conversation in Creole. Then, the 5-year old woke up pretty abruptly and projectile vomited ALL over the floor of the van. I couldn't grab bags off the floor fast enough! So, we made a pit stop to wipe up the puke and take a road-side potty break. Not too long after that we were stopped by a Haitian police officer; he asked if we could give another officer a ride. He wasn't in uniform, so we declined. Not long after that, the 2 year old blew-out her diaper. Thank goodness for extra blankets! We were then nearing PAP, but our gas tank was nearly on empty. We pulled in to two different gas stations, neither of which had any gas. So then we were basically forced to pay some men on the street for 3 gallons of gas which they funneled into our tank. And then we made it!

The guest house was VERY nice. We were served dinner when we arrived. Shortly after dinner, the nanny and mama started getting the kids ready for bed. They were all, adults included, in bed by 8:00 PM. Apparently Haitians like to go to bed early. So, because the room was pitch black, I settled in for the night too. There was a wall air conditioner; I cranked it down to 72, and slept so well! Probably froze out the Haitians!

I was awoken at 6:00AM by a bed-wetter above me! (our room had 2 bunk beds). Because we were in PAP, it was important that we looked nice. So, we got the girls all cute in their dresses and ended up leaving only 10 minutes behind schedule. We dropped Mamba baby and Mama off at the hospital, and made it to our appointments on time. The EEGs themselves were pretty uneventful, mostly because they gave our kids sleeping medicine. While we were at the appointments, Rikerns paid some boys to clean our van inside and out. Good-bye vomit smell, hello cherry air-freshener! (I think the air-freshener was later chucked out the window by another international staff member.....it's smell was a LITTLE overwhelming)

We stopped at a restaurant for some lunch and then hit the road around 1:30PM. This time, I made SURE to give the 5-year old some Dramamine. And it worked! I also managed to take a nearly 2- hour nap with the 2-year old. When we woke up, Rikerns told me that he was trying to drive extra smooth while I was sleeping. So thoughtful of him, but I'm not sure its possible to drive smoothly on those washed-out gravel roads. We only had to stop for one potty-break, and we were home safe-and-sound before 8:00PM!



Definitely a trip I won't forget! I laughed to myself several times as I wrote this. I'm thinking I might want to experience the flying route next time.......

 Children of the Promise has given explicit permission for the posting of photos on this site.  Photos taken of children in the care of Children of the Promise are not to be posted publicly without explicit permission given by Children of the Promise.

I Don't Know

My Little "Peanut"

 I’ve been humbled lately by the seemingly LARGE amount of things that I don’t know. Before I left for Haiti, people often asked me if I was nervous. I would respond by saying something like, “I feel under-qualified for this; I’m a brand-new nurse, and I don’t know anything.”  And I was kind of right.

I don’t know why the child in our nutrition program isn’t growing, I don’t know what the strange bumps covering that baby’s skin are, I don’t know what that atypical heart sound is, I don’t know what the nannies are trying to tell me, I don’t know how to calculate how many calories our premature baby needs per day, etc. Thankfully, I’m not alone. There are plenty of staff that have been here a lot longer than me, have a lot of wisdom, and are willing to help. And probably more importantly, I’m learning that it’s okay to say: “I don’t know. I need to look it up. I need to ask for help.”

I also don’t know Haitian culture. And I don’t know the history of this organization; the efforts made before I arrived. And I’m learning that I need to be more quick to listen and slower to speak. I’m learning to find my voice; to speak up when necessary, to advocate for our kids when needed, and to ask about things I don’t understand.  

I am getting to know our kids. I try to spend a little time in the life house each day, learning each child’s face and a little more about their personalities. I have completed the pretty large task of writing medical profiles for each of our kids, helping me to learn their histories. Our Haitian nurse and I are currently working together to do physical assessments of each of our kids.

I am getting to know new friends. Our Haitian nurses our great; they both have such BIG personalities and tolerate my broken attempts at creole very gracefully. Jenna and I have started hosting Wednesday morning bible study at our house with some of the older missionary kids and their mamas. This past week we hosted our first “Fika;” ladies coffee hour every Thursday afternoon. We are THRILLED to be in our house and filling the space with friends.

I am getting to LOVE on a beautiful little girl. She was born premature, is now nearly 4 weeks old, and has been staying with us for the past 10 days. Her mama passed away and her family needs some time to grieve and to heal before they take her back home. She is the tiniest human I have ever held, and she is so perfect. So perfect that I don’t really mind feeding her at 3 AM J

I’ve been learning that that Jesus is here, and He knows far better than I do. He doesn’t expect me to have it all together, but rather to choose to live within His presence in the present.

A wise friend of mine once said to me: “Beauty isn’t wrapped up in being fine all the time.” And now I know that she couldn’t have been more right.

“Jesus comes not for the super-spiritual but for the wobbly and the weak-kneed who know they don’t have it all together, and who are not too proud to accept the handout of amazin’ grace. As we glance up, we are astonished to find the eyes of Jesus open with wonder, deep with understanding, and gentle with compassion.”

 – Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel 

 Children of the Promise has given explicit permission for the posting of photos on this site.  Photos taken of children in the care of Children of the Promise are not to be posted publicly without explicit permission given by Children of the Promise.