When I woke up at 5am, I had already decided my mood for that day. I wish I could give you some fantastic missionary answer and tell you that despite my circumstances, I had chose joy… but I hadn’t. I was irritated. My face burned hot with anger, a trait that I unfortunately inherited honest from my Dad.
The night before, a transformer had blown, leaving our house and many others without power or water. The nighttime temps of course were in the 90’s, the air was still, and mosquitos kept zipping in through the windows and persistently buzzing around my face. I covered myself up with the sheet and got hot. When I’d uncover myself, the mosquitos went into attack mode on my arms and legs. Have you ever tried to sleep when you’re frustrated? It’s a vicious cycle of being angry that you can’t sleep, and not sleeping because you’re too angry to do so.
I learned in the morning that my frustration could become a vicious cycle too. When I got ready, I carried my frustration to me into work. I was tired, sweaty, covered in bug bites, I clearly had gotten ready in the dark, and I somehow managed to sit in a puddle of cat urine on one of the outdoor couches. I hate cats. At this point, my attitude was as ripe as my odor. Everything stunk.
It wasn’t until I pulled up the demographics of the baby we were going to get that I realized what an ungrateful piece of work I had presented myself as that morning. You would think that I live a life of 24/7 gratitude when you see the things I see on a daily basis. I love where I’m at, I love what I do, and I’m thankful we have air conditioning.. but it’s amazing how quickly I unraveled after a night without electricity and water.
We were heading to a really remote village La Ceiba in the mountains of Camotan to pick up a baby in a village that I’d visited many times before.
“Did you notice where we’re going?” Alfredo had asked me. I shook my head yes.
“How about the baby’s last name?” I opened the message with the baby’s demographics.
“He has the last name as Valentin,” I responded. It was then that I found out we were traveling to pick up the nephew of one of my patients.
The words in bold I had written that day were both salt and salve to my wound. It burned, knowing how I had acted like a petulant child that morning. It healed me, knowing that The Lord had provided me this 2+ hour long journey to pull myself back together. I bowed my head and prayed as hot tears welled up in my eyes. “Lord, I know it’s only 7AM and I have acted a complete fool. Please let me honor Valentin and honor you in how I carry myself today.”
When we arrived to the small house made of palm fronds, sticks, and plastic tarp, we were greeted by the same brother and sister in law who had presented Valentin to us. Only this time, we were there for their malnourished son. We all started crying as we reminisced Valentin’s earthly body. Though very sick for the last few years of his life, Valentin carried on a legacy of joy and great faith through every one he ever met. He never complained– despite years spent in severe poverty, severe sickness, and severe pain.
The Roque family — Valentin’s brother and sister in law and baby Victor. He is 2 years old and showing signs of moderate to severe malnutrition.
Could I ever be like Valentin? Could I ever be full of joy despite my circumstances and surroundings?
Romans 12:2 says “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is–his good, pleasing and perfect will.”
Renewing of your mind. As I sat in the back of the ambulance, holding Valentin’s sick nephew, I realized how things truly come full circle. I pray that my mind is constantly renewed with joy, with gratefulness, and with patience. That even when I’m exhausted and covered in dirt, bug bites, and dry cat pee, that I don’t allow negativity to creep in. How dare I even for one second have the right to be frustrated, knowing later that day I would be face to face with a family that lost their young brother and was now struggling to provide for their malnourished baby. May we never forget the blessings in our lives. I pray my mind is renewed and the overflow is thankfulness, even, and especially, on the hard days.
“Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which He blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are His body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”
― Teresa of Ávila
Exactly 1 year and 10 months ago, I hiked hours into the Guatemalan mountains with two Guatemalan men to bring back Valentin. The day would prove to be difficult, as we had to cut down a tree and tie a hammock to each end of it just to carry him back up the mountain to the ambulance. At 27 years old, he didn’t weigh but 40 pounds. But 40 pounds became very heavy for the three of us during our uphill journey.
We were greeted by his brother and pregnant sister in law at the door. They had tears in their eyes as they pulled back a plastic tarp to reveal what was inside. Valentin was critically sick. He was lying on the dirt floor, burning with fever and reeking of infection. When he saw me, he smiled. He explained to me how he had fallen ill a couple of months ago. He could no longer stand, and infection spilled out from a hole in his abdomen that fistula’d through to his bladder. He was pitiful, but you could see the determination in his eyes and the joy in his smile. When it came time to move him to a hammock so he could be transported, he winced and cried in pain. When I apologised, he smiled and said “It’s okay, Whitney. I’m just happy you’re here to help.”
To be honest, I was happy to be there to help too…. until about 10 minutes into our journey back. It was hot, he was heavy, and I was already exhausted. “Just about an hour and a half to go,” I tried to reassure myself. But that was difficult to do when the two hours that had elapsed in my head ended up being only 10 minutes in reality.
Had I known then what I know now, I would have done a lot less internal complaining on that journey up the mountain. I would have sucked it up. I would have disregarded my fatigue and carried Valentin with honor and pride.
Valentin was rescued February 7, 2016 on my oldest niece Kayleigh’s birthday. He turned 28 that following week on Valentine’s day. Today, he took his last breath. With his last breath, he also took a huge part of my heart with him. Anyone that has ever visited here knows he was my little buddy. He had a rough life– traveling to Guatemala City (a 3-6 hour trip one way) three times weekly for hemodialysis. Sunday’s I would wake up early to go pick him up for church and we would end the mornings eating lime cucos. I’m really going to miss him.
I don’t have a lot of words to say to adequately express how I’m feeling. Valentin became like a little brother to me (even though he was actually older than me)… we would read the Bible together, we would joke around, and he was always such a kind and gentle soul to anyone he ever met. To know Valentin was to love him, and he left an impression on everyone he met. It’s miraculous that he ever survived that first week to make it to his 28th birthday, but I had the joy of knowing him for exactly 1 year and 10 months longer than expected.
My soul rests in knowing where he is now. I am thankful for Jesus Christ’s promise of salvation. But in this moment, the world seems a little less colorful without Valentin in it. Oh, but his legacy will carry on in every part of my life. I will always think about him when I read the book of Philippians, whenever I eat a lime cucos, whenever I sit on the green couches at the hospital and watch the sun setting over the trees, whenever I go on a difficult rescue and forget to be grateful in ALL things and not just the easy things.
Valentin, thank you for letting me be the feet of Jesus just for a moment when we carried you up the mountain. I pray for the time that we had you as a patient that you felt cared for and significant, because you very much were. I still carry you, only now it’s in my heart… and the weight of it now sure does feel a lot heavier than the 40 pound boy I once knew.
Forever proud of his strength, his joy, his patience, and his drive. A boy that had a terrible prognosis spent a year and 10 months overcoming odds, learning to walk again, and adjusting to the difficulties of hemodialysis. You sure did make me proud, Valentin.I will forever cherish memories of your birthdays, reading the Bible, and giving you “chilero haircuts, como Bryan”
We love you forever, Valentin.
Whitney & Bryan
Dec. 7, 2017
In everything, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ” Acts 20:35
I got out of bed and fumbled around in the darkness to get dressed for the day. I grabbed Bryan’s sweatshirt since mine was somewhere buried beneath two weeks of scrubs in my clothes hamper. Reaching into my drawer, I grabbed a pair of socks from the pile. As I sat down to put my socks on, I couldn’t contain my happiness. “My lucky pizza socks!” I thought to myself. These weren’t any ordinary socks, they were MY pizza socks that I once won $300 while wearing them. I happily wiggled my feet into the socks more than certain that it was going to be a good day. Continue reading My Lucky Pizza Socks
This picture brings me to tears. Sweet William continues to grow and thrive. Although I so loved his precious cleft lipped smile, I love even more the world of potential that is contained in this precious miracle baby.
He gives power to the weak, and strength to the powerless. Isaiah 40:29
William’s story is just starting to be written, but you can read about where it began HERE.
I am thankful he was in my arms when his heart slowed to a barely perfusing 20 beats per minute. However, make no mistake, the glory is not mine. The glory belongs to God for having His hand over William’s life and every doctor and nurse that was present during his care.
I have started two other blog posts that I want to share with you all, but could not move forward without showing this little miracle first. More to come later this week… 🙂
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.
Today, Doris is a happy and (almost) completely healthy 16 year old who was recently brought in on the verge of death.
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:
Here you can see his dehydration, cyanosis, and lethargy. His blood sugar was 20 (yes, you read that right, 20.) when we brought him in.
Discussing with his mama that if he didn’t come back today he would die.Preparing for the long journey.TODAY! He is alert, stable, and bien precioso💛
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.
All glory to God,
–Whitney
Update Feb. 7, 2018 (one year later)
William is happy, healthy, and back home with his family. 💛💛
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.
Gripping onto each other on the difficult ride back to Hope of Life.I was so scared we would lose Rosita that I prayed the entire journey back for her to make it.All the children got so sick and there was vomit everywhere. I rubbed hand sanitizer under my nose to mask the smell.Once we reached smoother roads, I laid Blanca Luz down to rest and mended a few buttons on her shirt so she wouldn’t be so scared / embarrassed.Iris, 2 years old at St. Luke’s Hospital, Hope of Life.Rosita, 5 years old at St. Luke’s Hospital, Hope of Life.Blanca Luz, 9 years old, St Luke’s Hospital Hope of Life.After being at the hospital for 1 week, the girls were finally starting to smile a little bit.Each week, I would buy them a few gifts with whatever I could afford that week.Blanca Luz after 4 weeks at Hope of Life, she had just accepted Jesus but was too bashful for a picture.That’s better, pretty girl! <3Iris after 4 weeks. This little cutie would smile and giggle non stop, but of course when I would pull out the camera, she’d run away!And sweet Rosita… while she is still delayed for her age because of the severe sickness her body endured, she is now an acceptable weight for her size and much healthier and stronger!Such a HUGE transformation from where she was just 4 weeks ago!! All glory to God!
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!
I know that a lot of what we do here in Guatemala is confusing. It’s honestly hard to explain the ministry and everything that we do without seeing things first hand down here. (So if you haven’t yet, you should come visit! We love visitors!)
A lot of what I get questions about is the baby rescues I go on. I will try my best to explain the process, but per usual, I will likely fall woefully short in my descriptions. My prayer is that you get a glimpse into the process, that you could begin to understand the hours of work behind giving each child an opportunity to receive health care, and that you will feel moved to pray for or participate in rescues!
What exactly is a child rescue?
A child rescue is when Hope of Life travels into the mountains, often 3 or 4 hours away, to bring back someone for health care on our campus. These families otherwise would have not had any access to health care and would die in the mountains without our help. A rescue could bring back anywhere from 1 child to 10 children (and one time in May, we brought back even more than that.)
How does Hope of Life find out about these kids?
Hope of Life works very closely with community leaders in these remote villages. If there are sick children in their villages, they will contact the ministry. We also have the incredible Alfredo Gonzalez who works for Hope of Life– his days are spent riding his motorcycle into these villages to check up on them and touch base with their leaders. He also contacts the ministry when help is needed. Without Alfredo, we wouldn’t be able to find as many children, and we would certainly never get to these villages as he helps navigate when we go.
Alfredo and I at work
So why do families wait until their children are so sick to look for help?
Well, this is a tricky question to answer because so much goes into it and everybody’s story is different. Often times, they just don’t know. Unfortunately, because these villages are so isolated and poverty stricken, they might not know that help is available. Sure, there are hospitals around, but can you imagine walking miles and miles (probably 40 miles or more) in 100+ degree weather, carrying a sick child? They likely wouldn’t survive the journey. Even if they did, once they arrived to the hospital, the family could not afford care. Sometimes, it’s just fear or pride that stops them. That’s why what Hope of Life is doing is so wonderful, they intervene when things look helpless.
How do these children get so sick?
In this area of Guatemala, we are in the middle of a 5 year drought and famine. This has severely affected access to clean water (or ANY water in the dry season). These children suffer from severe forms of malnutrition– Marasmus (which is a lack of any nutrition) and Kwashiorkor (lack of protein) are two of the most common forms of malnutrition in this area. Also, with families having one room houses, we see a lot of cases of parasites and respiratory problems. It is not unusual for a family to have birds living in their homes or to cook inside their homes on an open fire– birds carry bacteria that cause respiratory issues, and the thick, black smoke that billows up from the open flame stoves just remains in the house to be inhaled, as these houses are poorly ventilated. Histoplasmosis, Toxoplasmosis, Tuberculosis, Parasites, and a slew of viruses are easily passed among family members in these living conditions. Once a child who is already sick gets one of these infections, the problem sort of “spirals out of control.”
You can find out more about the health and disparity here in Guatemala HERE.
What happens after the child is rescued?
Usually the mother ends up coming with the child (or sometimes, there will be more than one of her children that come). We will walk from their house back to the ambulance and begin the long journey back to Hope of Life. The ambulance ride is difficult. The road is steep, bumpy, and there is really nowhere good to sit, so the mother is usually sliding around and nauseous the entire ride. I help by holding the baby since I’m used to the ride, and the whole way back, I assess the baby to make sure they are not going into respiratory distress. When we arrive to the hospital, we get the patient stabilized, collect a health history from the mother, and the nutritionist will see the patient to determine the severity of malnutrition. The mother and child are given a room, clean clothes, and food. They will be given 3 meals daily, receive medications, and see the doctors. A 6 week stay is usually the minimum amount of time it takes for them to recuperate. However, that time frame can be significantly longer if we find other problems. The mothers often get homesick for their other children, and much of my time is spent reassuring them how vital it is to be at the hospital, because if they are sent home too early, the baby will get back in the same place and could even die. If a surgery is needed, we arrange for the surgery to be done. If they need a referral to a specialist, we arrange for that and take them there. Because this area is so remote, often times we’ll have to drive 3+ hours to Guatemala City when a patient needs a nephrologist or other specialized doctor. Hope of Life pays for all of this.
While the mother is in the hospital, she will bathe and feed the baby. If for some reason the mother has to leave, OR if she abandons the baby (which isn’t a very common occurrence but it does happen), then the baby will be placed in a room to be cared for by a nanny. The orphaned children undergo a long, difficult legal process to be placed in one of the house families here on Hope of Life or released back to another family member.
What happens after a child is discharged from the hospital?
Once they are clinically stable, they are sent back home with education, medicine, and food bags for their family. Hope of Life coordinates clinical follow ups so that the families bring the patient back routinely for check ups. It is always so much cheaper and easier to do preventative health care, or to catch a child that is only mildly malnourished, than to allow the problem to progress and to treat them when they are critically ill like before.
My role in these rescues goes far beyond bringing the baby back to the hospital. While that is important, and maybe one of the most difficult days, the real work begins when they arrive to the hospital. I spend a lot of my time educating these mothers about hygiene, safety, and how to care for their children. I comfort the mothers, encourage them, and pray for them daily. When they are in a position where they are able to listen and understand, I talk with them about who Jesus is. That He was sent to this earth to love us and care for us, and that He died for our sins. Because these families are from indigenous remote villages, for many of them, it is their first time hearing the gospel. If they leave Hope of Life and don’t personally know Jesus, I know that I have at least planted a seed and allowed them to see His love… a love that will follow them even into the most remote corners of Guatemala.
Over the quebradas and through the jungles we go.The view in these villages is absurdly beautifulHowever, the poverty we stand face to face with, is not.Houses are simplistic, people have little, and they live off the land.
Even these types of outhouses are not common where we go. People usually go to the bathroom near their water sources or the woods behind their home.They cook inside their homes, which causes chronic respiratory issues from years of inhaling the smoke.This was one of the few animal cages I saw… Often times, birds that carry diseases are left to walk through their homes, which further exacerbates respiratory and health issues.Without Hope of Life’s intervention, these children would die in these mountains without access to healthcare and medicine.When we arrive, I assess the children and I observe their living conditions to gain a glimpse into their health history.A team of volunteers usually join to help carry the children back to the ambulance.Often, these volunteers are people who sponsor and pay for these rescues. Thanks to their sponsorship, we are able to afford what we do…Each rescue not only funds the expenses to go get the child, but also for their ongoing healthcare when they return.We bring back many babies each week.Some more critical than others.When we arrive to Hope of Life, the first 48 hours is critical and often difficult on the children as we introduce new food and medicine to their bodies...but our care doesn’t end there. To quote Bryan, “If we treat their health concerns but do not tell them about Jesus, we are just prolonging their hell.” While their moms stay for free in our hospital, I have the opportunity to talk with these mama’s daily. To teach them about hygiene and breastfeeding, and talk with them about Christ when they are in a position that they are ready to receive.However, the transformation that happens is ALWAYS worth the difficult rescue days we endure to bring them back.
Today, I would like to thank these people for sponsoring us and allowing me to be here and do the work that I love– rescuing babies and working with them daily as they recover in our hospital. I also love being able to work with the mothers by educating them, encouraging them, and praying for them. THANK YOU all for allowing this growth and transformation to happen! Tara Graham – One of my sweet former patients and part of my church family. Thank you for your support!! Love and miss you so <3 Rebecca Porter – My favorite teacher in nursing school!! You have ALWAYS encouraged me and pushed me. I wouldn’t be a nurse if it wasn’t for you <3 Sara Mitchell – Sweet girl whose heart is connected to mine through Kidspoint and Guatemala!! Can’t wait for you to come visit one day <3 Patricia Derr – Your generosity astounds us!! Thank you so much for supporting us <3 Pam Fadness – Someone who knows rescues first hand!! I’m so thankful that we’ve met, you inspire us and we’re thankful for your support!! <3
We love you ALL and could not do what we do without you.
Truly, thank you so much.
–Whitney
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!
Luis in August, after being transferred back to Hope of LifeLuis in late August 2016August 2016– might be sick, but he’s still a ham!!11.14.16 Luis today!! Still the same, sweet, giggly boy!Except now he’s MUCH bigger…and much healthier too <3
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
This picture brings me to tears. Sweet William continues to grow and thrive. Although I so loved his precious cleft lipped smile, I love even more the world of potential that is contained in this precious miracle baby.
