"Mom, she isn’t breathing," – an update

This blog was originally posted on Thursday, January 10th.  Here is an update with the original blog below.

Morris' fever broke last night for the first time in 7 days, but all blood work shows a very very sick little boy.  Our Doctor says, "Morris is a very sick little boy, with no obvious cause, apart from the very
severe cerebral palsy. Probably brain damage contributing to all his systemic incapabilities".

Isabelle is without fever this morning, but still a very sickly baby, struggling for life.  We have 12 babies in isolation with fever and diarrhea, but most are on the road to recovery. Still 3 more children with fever due to ear infections and teething.  All sickness is at the El Roi baby home - we are thankful that all other homes have not been affected or infected. 

Our volunteers gathered with our Aunties and babies on Friday morning for a time of prayer, and it was wonderful.  I admit, I opened my eyes a few times to watch 27 little faces looking around at us from their highchair tables. They were quiet as church-mice for the 15 minutes of prayer, just looking around at the adults holding hands and crying out to El Rofi, the God who heals.  The Holy Spirit was palpable. 

Thank you all for your prayers, words of encouragement and financial gifts to help with Morris' mounting hospital bills. 

Original blog posted Thursday: 

On Monday morning at 7:10AM I was called about one of our babies who had been running a small fever through the night and the Supervisor wanted me to ask the nurse if they could start her on an antibiotic.  I contacted our nurse and we were in the process of sending a photo of the baby’s chart so that the nurse could see what the baby had recently been taking.  At 7:40AM I was called again, this time I was told that the baby had stopped breathing.

I jumped in Ian’s car (which handles our terrible roads better than mine) and met Margie at the baby home less than a minute later.  She jumped in the front seat with two Aunties in the back seat holding a lifeless baby.  The baby’s name was Pearl.

We all prayed over the child, crying out to the Lord over and over again to heal her in His mighty name. We prayed, and cried and one of them did CPR while I drove at a break-neck speed to the hospital in town, only to have her pronounced dead at 8:30AM.

What??  She was alive less than an hour before? 

Pearl was a sickly baby, struggling with fever and diarrhea from time to time and then every now and then she would puff up. We had her tested for every possibility from allergies, to renal problems. All tests came back negative.  And then she died.

The next morning, at around the same time of day, Margie called me and said that Morris was not doing well and needed to go to the hospital.

Morris as he was being admitted

Morris is a 2.5-year-old boy who has never sat, never walked and doesn’t hold his head up due to severe Cerebral Palsy.  He was born at 28 weeks and lived the first five months of his life in a rural clinic (left there by his 14-year-old mother who promised to return for him). Since he came to us we have struggled treating his fevers, pneumonia, choking and seizures. He is the happiest little boy, except when he is sick, and then he cries all the time.  We have had many “close calls” with this little guy, but in December we rushed him to the private hospital in town where he was admitted for two weeks. He returned home on December 28^th and eight days later, the day after we lost baby Pearl, we were rushing him back to the emergency room.

After Morris was admitted and they started suctioning mucus, it was time for me to leave (I don’t do mucus well).  We always have an Auntie stay at the hospital with our children 24/7 and so he was in good hands and I went off to run another errand – buy a coffin for Pearl.

I am not unfamiliar to the DUPS Funeral Home, and sadly knew where to go to register the baby’s death, where to choose the coffin (size #2), and what dark window to slide my money under to make payment.  I forgot to drop off her burial clothes, so I could only think of little Pearl lying wrapped in a hospital sheet until Margie took the clothes the next day.

Early this morning Denis picked up two of our baby home Supervisors (the ones who held Pearl as she died in their arms) and together they would go and get the tiny coffin and bring sweet Pearl home to be laid to rest in the Project Canaan Cemetery.

We notified Social Welfare and they came to the funeral with some very distant family members who were notified of the death.  It is common for Swazi’s to travel a great distance for a funeral, even if the relation is distant. It is also common for the family to want to see the baby in the coffin (which takes me by surprise every time) so Cynthia and I were asked to open the coffin for the family to see Pearl. 

They don’t embalm bodies here, so unscrewed the lid of the coffin to reveal sweet Pearl laying there peacefully, covered in condensation from being removed from the cold refrigerator and being brought out in to the deep heat of a Swazi summer day.  The lid was screwed back on, songs were sung, scripture read, and then the coffin was carried to the grave site that had been dug by hand minutes before the service began. 

As in Swazi tradition, a grass mat is placed down in the hole, two people jump down in to the hole and the coffin is passed down.  It is covered with a blanket and then men take turns shoveling dirt on to the coffin.  Every couple of feet of dirt, one of the men jump in to the hole in bare feet to stomp down the dirt so that it is well packed.  As the grave gets filled with dirt, the women collect rocks from the bush to surround the top of the grave and hold the piled-up dirt. 

Graveside

Shoveling dirt to cover the coffin.

Stomping the dirt to pack it down.

Our Aunties gathering rocks

When this was finished, we placed the flowers on the top of the grave, and a rock cross made on Project Canaan at the head of the grave.  Kind words were spoken, a prayer said, and it was finished.

Morris’ fever continues, his seizures are increasing in frequency and we continue to pray for health and healing, in this life.

I am not writing this blog today (rather than Saturday) for sympathy, but writing is how I process things. I just don’t know what else to do today. I don’t want to go and design beaded décor at Khutsala. I don’t want to go have fun with the big kids. I don’t want to drive to town again.  I am tired of crying. So, I thought I would write, and make sure Pearl is not forgotten, and that Morris is being prayed for.

I do appreciate your prayers and words of encouragement, and I also think it’s important to try to explain just some of what happens here on a daily basis.  There is so much that I can’t share publicly out of respect for my Swazi sisters and brothers, and because you simply wouldn’t believe most of it. Life is real, and it’s hard. Death is real, and it’s ugly. And we deal with both daily.  

Matthew 11:28-30 says, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Thank you all for your love and support and your prayers for all of His children who are suffering around the world.  We are not discouraged, just sad.   We are not giving up or running away, we are just taking a time to mourn, and we know that there will be joy in the morning.

Live from my yellow chair in eSwatini … it is Thursday afternoon.

Janine