Monday, January 29, 2018

A change of Scenery

A few days ago, Sophia’s heart stopped. CPR was accomplished but not without brain damage being done. She went 24 hours breathing on her own but her little body was tired, so she is now back on the machine. The doctors asked for me to come to the hospital immediately. They were not sure if this would happen again and if CPR wouldn’t be effective the next time because of her inflammation. I took the hour and a half drive to the hospital when I received the call. Her temperature was dropping, her blood pressure wasn’t great, and we thought we were starting to count down the hours. Well, my little warrior is still fighting like a champ. But that night was long. I didn’t know what would happen. After arriving to the hospital around 4pm, I decided I needed to stay the night, even though I hadn’t brought anything with me. Time past slowly as I stood next to her bed, without chairs available, in a crowded room with other sick ones, and a lot of beeping machines. She can’t see me and I don’t believe she can hear me, but I would still get right up in her face, lay my hand on her head, and sing to her. I would watch as her heart beats per minute would get pretty good to scary bad as I kept eying the monitor. Watching those lines go across the screen just like the roller coaster we’ve been on. That night I sat outside, under the stars, on a cold, cement bench above the sewage drain and tried desperately not to breathe in the smell. I sat in my lonely corner praying that it didn’t rain and hoping the stars would come out from around the clouds so I could start counting. I was too upset to try to start a conversation with all the other moms who seemed just as exhausted as I am. I loved when God asked Abraham in Genesis to count the stars. One look into the sky and I was reminded just how big my God is. One look into the sky and I was reminded I wasn’t sitting in the corner alone. He was right there with me. With a big sigh, I tried to hold it all together. I watched as the other moms and dads who had children in the hospital flatten out their card board boxes, lay down a sheet on the dirty ground and fall off to sleep. I watched as they would squat down to get some water from their bucket to brush their teeth in front of everyone as roaches were flicked off from the pile of clothes. I watched as the morning sun rose, they sat on the concrete ground with their two little gallons of water and washed clothes with their hands for their sick little children. I think of the stark differences in the country I came from to this one. Water fountains, everywhere, any time of the day or night… and it is free. Here I had to buy a bottle outside before the gate got locked and that was it for the night. I thought of having a chair in an air conditioned room to sit next to my baby girl, just the two of us, under the safety of a roof…not the back aching cement bench outside next to the ditch with 15 other people. I think of the bathrooms with their white tile, free toilet paper and running water. Here was a line of broken toilets that don’t flush, toilet paper was in your purse, and the color of the water was questionable. If anything, this life has made me grateful. We have no idea how good we have it. We have no idea how some people survive the way they do. And one thing I’ve learned, Haitians won’t complain about it. They are thankful for the healthcare with or without the luxuries. Today, I want to be grateful. I don’t want to complain. My princess is getting healthcare. That is all that matters. Not the comforts that we want. God is a good God and He makes it all worth it. Ill fight with you, Sophia. God is holding your right hand and I your left.

1 comment:

  1. Ellen, I am praying for your sweet Sophia, and for you!