The past 2 weeks feel like a year. It’s so hard for me to begin to think of what to write about Sifa and Augustine (Augie)…
especially Sifa. Let’s recap. Mama Masika, a 4 time rape survivor, devoted her life to
restoration of rape victims and their children (most of whom are born of rape).
I went to visit them for the first time mid January. I was introduced to two
babies who were found (no relation to each other) with the corpses of their
dead mothers… two weeks after massacres took place in their villages. Masika heard
about an attack, hiked up to look for survivors, found the kids and took them
(Sifa and Augie) to the hospital. After one week, and not finding any surviving
family, they were released to her, and that is where I met them. We don’t know
their ages, their real names… we know nothing.
Sifa and Augie on Sunday, February 21st.
So what do I know? I know God has given me the capacity in my
heart to love big, bigger than I ever thought possible. But these kids… whoosh! I can’t even… Maybe it was knowing
their past, or I guess not knowing their past, that was so connecting for me.
Maybe it’s the far away emotionless expressions they carried in their eyes;
that void of hope and joy that drew me to them. A desire in me to see them
restored to the fullness of who they were created to be.
I am not sure, I can’t even really begin to understand and
at this point I don’t actually care. They are already so intertwined into my
story, it doesn’t matter. Sifa faintly smiled in her sleep the day I took her
to the hospital (February 19th)… I held that image in my mind for days
because it gave me hope; this is not all for nothing. In her deep subconscious…
somewhere in there, that small, brief smile showed me a faint glimpse of the
innocent child who was still there. She’s not gone.
I took this just after she had that slight
smile, February 19th. She looked peaceful for the
first time since I met her.
Whatever it was, they were on my mind night and day. I couldn’t
close my eyes to sleep without seeing their faces. I love them so much. I woke
up at 5 am every morning with anticipation waiting for the sun to come up so I could
go to the hospital and see them. I wanted to give them their baths and feed
them, especially Sifa. Augie was doing so much better than she was. She didn’t
sleep easily or much; she was in so much pain. On Saturday (Feb 20th)
I came to visit; Sifa had been awake for a while. Augustine was sleeping and
Rachel was exhausted, so I took Sifa to give her a break. (Rachel is Mama Masika’s oldest daughter, 28,
who was staying in the hospital with the kids... all on the same bed).
Sunday before church, she reached for me when I came
in and was actually making eye contact for a while.
We went outside for fresh air, and as I sang to her, she
fell asleep. Finally. After that day, she actually started looking at me and
reaching for me when I came. This is a huge milestone for her. She did not
engage in eye contact for a very long time. She would look off into the
distance, and if you tried to move yourself to be in her line of sight, she
would just keep looking somewhere else. She then started keeping my gaze for a second
at a time when I sang to her or when I was talking to her. Eventually when I
put her down, she started to watch me. Sunday was a great day, lots of emotional
improvement and she even walked for the first time since they found her.
Augie too, was feeling better. They were both coughing less
starting to show signs of being emotionally present. Monday morning was the
same. I came back at lunch with one of our staff members to pray for the kids.
We thought we saw a sly grin on Augies face at one point, as if he thought of
something funny and curled up one side of his mouth. Sifa, although she reached
for me, was slipping away again. By the time I came back later that evening, she
was in critical condition. She had a high fever, her heart rate was so high the
doctor could barely keep up the count… and she slipped back into her zombie
like state of emotionlessness.
The nurse came to talk to us and prepared us for the worst,
but reassured us the doctors would do everything they could. “It is in Gods
hands now” she said. This is where my previous post came from. I love this
little girl so much. I did everything I could to keep it together in the
hospital, but I was dying inside. It was hard to watch them take her lifeless,
but still alive body out of the room to the ICU, where I could not go. I was
holding Augie, who was oblivious and just looked around with his adorable bottom
lip popped out. They both had been
fighting for their lives since the day of the attacks. They were both
emotionally and physically tired. Sifa’s body was giving in. I kept thinking,
“ok God, this is it… do I really believe you. Do I actually trust you like I
say I do”. I made a decision there; "Yes" I did. I would continue to pray
and no matter what happened, I trust what He’s doing, because I do believe what
He says.
Back to Rachel for a minute. Now, when I say staying at the
hospital, please erase everything you know about hospital stays. The smell of a
hospital; erase it. Hospital beds… erase that image. Cleanliness… erase it.
Erase everything you know. They are in a community pediatric room. We tried to
put them in a private room so they could have some quiet and maybe sleep better. But we
were told they needed to stay with the other critically mal-nourished kids
because they are all monitored the same and on the same feeding schedule. There
are bugs. That’s all I will say about that. It’s not ideal, but it’s better
than the rural hospital. Some of the beds have two mothers on the same bed. The room is full. When I come in the mornings, there are mattresses that have been
pulled out into the middle of the floor so 2 of the mothers have a place to
sleep. This was not an easy job and the
responsibilities put on her were huge.
there is a camaraderie in this room.
The women all become friends; I was fortunate
to be included in it. Every time I came I
received a warm "Karibu Muzungo"
(welcome foreigner)... eventually, some of them
started to call me Jenni.
received a warm "Karibu Muzungo"
(welcome foreigner)... eventually, some of them
started to call me Jenni.
Sifa and Augie sitting on their bed back in the corner.
Rachel may be the strongest woman I know, literally.
Tuesday morning the doctor allowed me into the ICU. She was stable;
her fever had gone down, but otherwise she was the same. The doctor decided she needed
a blood transfusion. She received an IV port in her neck, and a blood
transfusion. Tuesday night Sifa was back in the community room. She looked so
helpless and miserable. She could not move her head because of the IV, she
still had a fever and was soaked in sweat. I would rinse a rag with cold water, lay it on her head and switch it out every few minutes. I laid on the bed with her for at least an
hour singing to her, praying and changing her sweaty, hot rag out for a cold
one.
4 IV ports in 2 weeks. Her tiny veins kept blowing.
Now I know I’ve said this before. Joy is a choice. When I
see her laying there in pain, struggling to breath, I have a choice. I choose joy. It’s not easy, but it gets me
through the hard things. And I believe strongly that in the face of death, God
shows us life. He has never failed to bring life and show joy to broken
situations. I think for so long, I focused on the situation, not on the choice I have in responding to the situation and I missed out on a lot of joy.
Case in point. Monday night, after they took Sifa. I wanted
to go home and cry. Instead I stayed to play with and love on Augie. He was sitting with me
on the bed;I was talking to him and being goofy, probably more for my sake than
his since I was still trying to hold it together… and he smiled. HE SMILED!!!!
This is the baby I held, soaked in pee, at the funeral that had been
emotionally detached since I met him. His adorable smile turned into laughing.
As I got more and more excited for his smile and laughter, he laughed harder. We
were all ecstatic! This was his first smile since he had been found. His smile... his deep, belly shaking baby laughter was a gift of love, joy, peace and hope
in the face of the Sifa's uncertain recovery. This Hope I have is an anchor for my soul. I let loose. I cried
anyway… tears of joy.
His first smile... (yes it's a girls onesie). I don't have the laughing. every time I started to film, he would stop.
Wednesday, Sifa was doing much better. She was sitting up
again when I left her that morning. Later that evening after work… I walked
into the room and as I walked over to their bed… this is what I saw.
I almost screamed. I’ve prayed for this moment since the
first day I met her. I immediately pulled out my phone, took this picture
through tears and then started to film. I was so excited… she too started to
laugh at my excitement. I have never heard more precious or adorable sounds.
EVER. These two babies laughing… it was unbelievable. UNBELIEVABLE.
Yes, we have matching dresses. They ran out of
fabric for Augies shirt. So we are having
another set made with different fabric.
These kids are miracles. They should not have survived 2 weeks
in the bush, alone, no food, no water, (by the way, “Mayi” which is Swahili for
water, was the first word she said to me). They should not have survived the
torrential rainstorms we get almost every night and the cold, wet chill of the
mountains at night. They should not have survived the malaria and bronchitis
with how severely mal-nourished and worn down their tiny little bodies were
(Sifa, who is older, weighed in at a whopping 7 kilograms and Augie 8.5… they both gained
a kilo the 12 day they were in the hospital). And I certainly don’t understand how they can survive the kind of trauma they've experienced.
Love is powerful. God is love. So yes, God has given me the ability to love
big… but these experiences, they stretch you. Every time He allows my limits to be stretched, my faith, my trust, my confidence... I end up feeling as though my heart exploded only to be made bigger to
hold that much more the next time. This expanded capacity to love and be loved is not
something I could have ever done on my own. This is all God.
Sifa loves to play ball
Augie loves to get belly szurberts... (don't
judge me. I don't know how to spell that).
Sifa and Augie were checked out of the hospital this past
Monday. It was so bittersweet for me. I am beyond gratefully to God that they
are healthy and so much better, and out of the hospital… but my heart aches because they are no longer just
down the street, where I could see them when I want and spend hours with them each day. They are now hours away. Please,
please, please continue to pray for them. They still have a long road to being
fully restored to health. They are doing well, but not out of the woods yet.
WOW! That is an amazing story. Thanks for sharing so much. I really love reading your posts and hearing about all the incredible God moments you are experiencing. Much love to you!
ReplyDeleteAlly
I want to take in both of those sweet babies and just love on them. Thank you for sharing this story. And Thank God you are their sharing your joy and love. Best wishes to you. Love you. Xo
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this Jenn. Keep loving BIG!
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ReplyDeleteYour story you are living and writing of God's will that you are walking out in is amazing and pulls at every heart string in my spirit! Thank you for not giving up and being you! Can't wait to read more! Love and miss you
ReplyDeleteIt's me Kat and that's my post above :)!
DeleteIt's me Kat and that's my post above :)!
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