As I sit here, I’m so torn about what to write about… In one way, it feels like everything is exactly the same as we continue to press on and work hard. On the other hand, so many new things have happened since I last wrote. Sometimes, though, it is hard to put words to the moments spent giving therapy to severely disabled kids with your favorite short term group from California. It is hard to describe the light in a child’s eyes after receiving several weeks of nutrition. It is hard to describe the gratitude I have toward all the doctors, nurses, and administration I get to work beside in our hospital. While so much of what we do feels like “you just had to be there” type of moments, I hope so much that this gives you just a small glimpse into our every day.
Lately, it’s been a mix of mountaintops and valleys here. I am always so encouraged and filled with hope when our patients finally start to look and feel better… you wouldn’t believe the amount of love and care that is poured into them here from all the hospital staff. However, this month we have lost a few babies and one teenage girl that I had become very connected with. I’ve become better about dealing with the emotional trauma that I experience sometimes daily here, but I guess it’s something that you never just ‘get used to.’ Rather, you learn to process it in a healthy way and disconnect for a little while when it’s necessary. We did just that this past weekend and headed to a Guatemalan beach on the border of Belize to celebrate our 6 year anniversary and catch up on much needed sleep!
One of my recent highlights this month, has been watching the transformation of Doris. I will share her story below, but I want to warn you that her ‘before’ pictures are hard to look at.
Someone asked me this week if I ever get used to what I do. While I’ve certainly grown more experienced, I pray that it’s something that never becomes routine or so second nature… that holding a malnourished dying baby will always feel raw, will always have a heaviness to it, and will always move me to tears when things don’t go as expected.
…and just this week, things didn’t go as expected. Sunday, we left for a baby girl who was nearly 4 months old and weighed just 5 pounds. When I arrived, her tiny nail beds were cyanotic, the skin between her ribs sunk in and pulled together as she gasped for air, and her eyes stared blankly, lifelessly at the ceiling. Her eighteen year old mother paced the floor, worried as I quickly assessed her. The paternal grandmother wept in the background- large tears streaming from her eyes and settling into the deep wrinkles on her face that were likely brought on by a life of hardship and working in the heavy Guatemalan sun.
We carried the feverish, frail baby back to the ambulance where I immediately applied oxygen. The pulse oximeter read 52%. We rushed to the closest hospital as quickly as we could and hurried baby Heidy inside. I helped the staff to start IV access and get labs while the other nurses set up an oxygen hood and fluids. Once things calmed down, I talked with Francisca (the baby’s young mother) and prayed over them. That was the last time I would ever see them as we got the call yesterday that Heidy didn’t make it.
There are a lot of words that I can use to describe this type of hurt… but I stumbled across this Franciscan Blessing and would rather share it instead as it describes my feelings with much more eloquence, and much less curse words.
May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our hearts.
May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace.
May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, hunger, and war, so that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.
And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done, to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.
“He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:8
Bradycardic, hypotensive, hypothermic, hypoglycemic and septic… when we found William, he was just over a month old and just barely 4 pounds.
Along with a myriad of other problems, he was suffering from marasmus, a severe type of malnutrition. His mother was unable to produce breast milk as she, too, was starving. The area that we brought him from was very familiar to me, and locals call it “Corridor Seco” or “The Dry Corridor” as it’s in the middle of a 6 year drought and food / clean water is hard to come by. In fact, just 2 months prior I had been to the exact same village about 4 houses down to bring back another kid.
I was already emotional going into the trip. We had originally set out to bring back a premature 3 pound baby, but had gotten word that she had passed away before we could make it to her. In the midst of all that happening, we had gotten the call about William.
He looked terrible when we arrived and I was immediately worried that he would not make the difficult journey back. He was cyanotic and his legs felt like ice even in the warmth of the Guatemalan heat. My fears were confirmed less than 10 minutes into the journey… I was frantically performing CPR on his tiny body, the whole while desperately crying out to God to please let him survive, that I couldn’t bear to lose another one in the same day.
The 2 1/2 hours back to Hope of Life was one of the longest 2 1/2 hours of my life– with many resuscitations performed. Even when we arrived back here, I was performing CPR while Dr Ana Lucia successfully started an IV after the 8th attempt. (And we’re good at IV’s too.)
When we transferred him out to a higher level care hospital, I feared that I may never see him again.
Today… he came back to Hope of Life. His momma and I both burst into tears when we saw each other.
Here are some before and after pictures:
A week or so ago, I was talking with the Safe Haven Families… and Patti Monk and Jessica Holt had said “we witness miracles every day here… miracles of healing and provision. But the BEST miracle we see is when we see a spiritual transformation… when someone passes from death and comes alive in Christ.”
I pray that one day William and his mother may come alive in Christ, and I am so. very. humbled / emotional / happy that William has survived to have that opportunity one day.
There are times when living down here, I see things so harrowing that I am too choked up and unable to share about… or sometimes I feel like I just cannot post images of children with such poor prognoses because it’s hard for me to share things that are so hopeless and beyond our control. It’s hard to see a baby with microcephaly and an inoperable meningoencephalocele and know that she’s not going to make it. It’s hard to see a baby with a hydrocephaly so large (78cm at 5 months) and watch his mother struggle to lift him or to raise his head enough to feed him without aspirating. It’s hard to see 18 pound 20 year olds who have suffered months, if not years, of extreme malnutrition. It’s hard for me to be public about such heart breaking stories because I never know what tomorrow holds for some of these precious children. It’s hard for me to be public after I have held their mommas in my arms as they bitterly weep about the condition of their baby who they know cannot survive. I am a fixer and a helper, and it’s so difficult for me when I am faced with situations that I cannot fix nor help.
However, tonight is different. Tonight I am going to be sharing a story of help and hope and transformation. Several weeks ago, I had pleaded for some of you to pray for a rescue I went on. Now, let me be clear, that all the rescues I go on require prayer as the children are often only weeks from death when we bring them back to Hope of Life. However, this rescue was different. This one broke me and in the same time, reignited my passion for what we’re doing here… There are some hard to look at pictures in this post, but stay tuned for the happy ending.
3 hours. The drive to Pacayalitas was 3 hours from Hope of Life, but was still located in the department of Zacapa. Usually, our rescues come from Jocotan, Camotan, or Olopa in Chiquimula… But this one was in the other direction, far up into the mountains past La Union. Once we arrived to the small village, we began the 30 minute walk up the mountain, through the coffee bushes, through the mud, and arrived at the small stick and mud hut they called their home. The water source outside their home smelled foul and was a toxic green color. Birds ran in and out of their home as black smoke billowed out of the door way from their indoor stove. There were three makeshift burial sites behind the back yard, and the dirt above them looked very fresh.
Inside, I saw sweet 9 year old Blanca Luz, holding her sisters– 5 year old Rosita and 2 year old Iris. Although she was only 5, Rosita was small and frail, and was much smaller than her malnourished 2 year old sister. Unable to stand or walk, Rosita sat with a blank, lifeless expression in her eyes as she coughed and struggled to breathe. Blanca Luz appeared terrified as tears welled up in her eyes. She explained to me that both of her parents and an older sister had all recently died. “They became very skinny because they did not have any food and all of them had a cough when they died too,” she explained. Immediately, I became concerned that it could be tuberculosis.
Pressing my stethoscope against Rosita’s chest, I heard a deep, rumbling, rhonchorous breath sounds. When I picked her up, she weighed next to nothing, and her limp, boney body sunk into mine as I could see and feel the muscles between her ribs sucking in and gasping for air. I worried whether or not she would be able to make the long journey back to Hope of Life. We made the journey back to the ambulance with Blanca Luz, Rosita and Iris. Their grandmother joined us on the way.
When we arrived to the ambulance, I noticed the oxygen tank was on empty because it was the end of the month and it was unable to be refilled. I pulled out the pediatric ambubags, praying Rosita would be stable enough to not need them. We got settled in the ambulance with Blanca Luz holding Iris and myself holding Rosita. Less than 5 minutes down the mountain in the bumpy, hot and nauseating ride, Blanca Luz began to cry profusely. She said “Please don’t let my sisters die. They’re all that I have left.” And I promised her I would do everything I could to not let that happen. Through her small, choked up voice, she asked if I could hold her while I held Rosita too. My heart broke and I saw my 9 year old niece Kayleigh in Blanca Luz’s eyes. I thought about how I would do anything in the world for my Kayleigh, and I would do just the same for this sweet girl whose face housed fear and responsibility as she had dealt with more hurt in the past month than some people do in a lifetime.
Blanca Luz handed Iris to her grandmother and shifted herself from the ambulance bench to the stretcher to sit beside me and Rosita, the buttons on her hand sewn blouse popped off and she became embarrassed and began to cry harder. She said “my shirt is unbuttoned but please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me,” she began to scream and cry harder as she buried her face into my chest. Not knowing what all this precious 9 year old girl had went through and only seeing the sheer terror in her face and the trembling in her voice, I wrapped my arms around her firmly and told her I would never hurt her and promised to keep her safe. The ride was very difficult.
We spent over an hour and a half on the bumpy mountainous road. At one point, we hit a bump so big that all of us were flown out of our seats and came crashing into the bars and doors against the back of the ambulance. I hurt my tailbone pretty good in that moment, but Blanca Luz and Rosita remained in my tight grip. After that, we entered onto the main paved road where the driver picked up speed and the entire family became nauseous and started vomiting from the car sickness. Covered in their vomit, the secretions from Rosita’s cough, and watching the lice jump from Blanca Luz’s hair and into my own, she apologized and I told her that everything was okay and she didn’t need to feel bad or worry.
Flash forward 3 hours we finally arrive back to Hope of Life. Dirty, bruised, and sore hands from bagging Rosita for the last 20 minutes or so of the journey, we rush inside to get Rosita stabilized so she can await a transfer to a higher acuity hospital with isolation rooms available for the suspected tuberculosis. The grandmother goes with Rosita, and I am left to help a terrified 9 year old settle into a foreign location to care for her 2 year old sister.
The next several weeks while Rosita was away, I spent hours each day talking with Blanca Luz. I would pick lice out of her hair, paint her nails, color with her.. anything I could do to help distract her from hurt. Each day, she cried for her mommy and for Rosita. As the days passed, she and Iris grew stronger, happier, and healthier. I talked to her about Jesus and how to pray when she was upset or scared. She became so comforted through the power of prayer.
About 2 weeks ago, Rosita was transferred back to our hospital much more stable. She was still weak for her age, but she was smiling and able to breathe on her own. Her lungs sounded clearer and stronger. Just the other day, all three girls were discharged to go home and I am so glad that while this story is far from ‘happy’, that these three girls are survivors and will be returning to live with their grandmother. Three precious girls, fighting malnutrition and respiratory issues and one who was barely surviving have been healed. Not just physically healed, but spiritually healed too as Blanca Luz accepted Jesus into her heart before returning home. Please continue to keep these precious ones in your prayers as the hurt they have experienced will leave wounds to last a lifetime, and the struggle before them is not yet over.
I am thankful for Hope of Life for springing into action into the mountains of Guatemala where people need help the most. I am thankful for the continued followup we will have on children like Blanca Luz, Iris, and Rosita to make sure they never get to that place of desperation again.
Tonight, I want to thank some of our best friends and sponsors– Jordan & Jazmyn Ward. Jazmyn was one of the first people I tearfully told about this rescue. Although most of this year she’s been living in Germany, we have kept in touch through our late night face timing and snapchat sessions. Jordan and Jazmyn just GET us. They know when we need encouragement, and they freely give encouragement. They know when we need a laugh, and they tell funny jokes or reminisce on hilarious old times with us. They are our “iron sharpens iron” friends and our life has been abundantly blessed just having met them. Jortin’ & Jaz, we love you all and our journey here began because when people thought we were crazy to move to Guatemala, you said GO FOR IT. When vehicles broke down and power was out, you were there for us. We love you all so so so much, and we’re so thankful for the years of laughter we have shared and how you all have supported us and encouraged us through it all.
To support us like The Wards, you can go HERE to find out how. You can also sponsor children just like Blanca, Rosita and Iris by visiting Hope of Life’s Sponsorship PAGE. Just $35 a month allows you to connect with a child here in Guatemala by giving them access to food, water, and healthcare. You also get to write to the children and see them if you ever come to visit!
This Thanksgiving season, we’re beyond thankful. Our hearts are overflowing with gratitude and there’s so much more this year has in store for us.
Muchísimas gracias to all who sponsor and pray for us. We could not be the feet on the ground here in Guatemala without your support!
Isaiah 43:19 “See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Every day that I go into the hospital, I witness miracles. Whether it’s a transformation that happened over night or over the course of a few months, I see a miracle every. single. day. I pray I never take this for granted, I pray I always see the miracles for what they are, am thankful for them, and remember that what God is doing here isn’t commonplace. What God is doing here in Guatemala is the result of the sacrifices of many– through hard work, generous donations, and fervent prayers.
Today I got to witness two miracles… Rosita is back from Zacapa hospital, and I will be sharing her story with you one day this week. Also, I got to see Luis today… and I haven’t shared his story with you at all yet.
Luis was a patient we had in a medical clinic with Liberty University this past July. During the clinic, doctors had noticed his difficulty breathing and insisted on a stat echocardiogram (which is a lot more difficult to attain here in this area of Guatemala than it is in the states!) Long story short, we were able to get this baby into a local hospital with a pediatric cardiologist, and the baby would later go into cariogenic shock– which he would have died from had he remained in his village or at our hospital which doesn’t have the resources to place him on a vent.
I am happy to share that Luis is now happy, healthy, and growing!! After his scary incident, he was stabilized and brought back to our hospital a few weeks after. He has access to vital medications he needs to survive. He and his mom were recently in our hospital for a routine follow up at our clinic and I just want to share his progress with you!
Of course, I would not be here to witness his transformation first hand without donors like The Fair Family. We have known and loved this family for 5 (?!) years! We’ve served in Kidspoint at Lifepoint together… and Andie and I spent many nights performing our regal-est eagle-est dance moves for K-Motion… those were the days! hahaha
To The Fairs– I pray that your generosity towards us is blessing you as much as it blesses us!! The miraculous transformations here literally blow. my. mind. We miss you all so much and we’re so happy for all you’ve given to allow us to be on this journey! Your generosity, compassion, enthusiasm and love encourage us to press on even during the difficult days. We’re so very thankful for you!
2016 has already been so full of transformation in the lives and hearts of people we touch… and the year isn’t even over yet! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again… the best is yet to come. I can feel it. <3