by S. M. Smith
“I’ll walk with you.”
“You mean, I don’t smell too gross to be near?” I joke over my shoulder as I head back toward our tent.
“Ha!” he yells as he takes the few long strides it takes to catch up with me, scoop me up and haul me over his shoulder, making me laugh all the way back to our tent.
***
I finish uploading the pictures I took of the babies last night to the laptop and quickly email them to both Aubrey and Janine. I turn in my seat toward Aubrey, who is typing furiously on a laptop at the table across the tent.
“I just sent those over. You should have them soon, although I’m not sure how quickly with this wireless service,” I chuckle.
“Okay,” she responds, not stopping her typing or looking away from her screen. “Sorry…I’m. Just. About. Done.” She pounds a key on her laptop and sits back, not taking her eyes off the screen.
“All eight babies?” I ask. Stephen seemed really excited last night about getting the babies some publication on their needs and Aubrey and I were all too excited to help.
“Yep, just waiting on your email to pull through and I can add them to the blog and post. As long as they come through quickly, they will be famous before the day is done.” As if on cue, her email dings. “Got it.”
She pounces on her laptop and starts clicking away furiously.
“Okay, come find me or Stephen when you’re done.” I stand to leave for lunch prep at the school and see her nod, again, not turning away from the screen. Her determination to get the information on the babies out there is inspiring, but I need to get up and do something. I just barely get out of the tent when Monica waves me over from the clinic.
“Dr. Martinez is looking for you,” she says, meeting me halfway. “Said your friend called.”
I yell my thanks to her as I sprint toward the clinic, nearly plowing over LeAnn as I round the corner. I shout my apologies over my shoulder, remembering the patients’ need for peace too late as I step through the door of the clinic. Dr. Martinez glares at me as I make my way to him.
“I know. I need to watch my volume. I’m sorry. Daphne called?”
He purses his lips as if to show me he doesn’t like playing secretary for me, but sighs when he sees his irritation isn’t getting to me.
“She did. She said she has a doctor in the city who can get the costs for the MRI for Francis waived and may be willing to do the surgery should he need it. She said to call her back to get his information.”
Ecstatic that she was able to find someone to help, I jump up and down and nearly kiss his cheek, but the look on his face said he wasn’t nearly as amused by this success so I hold back my excitement.
“Thank you,” I squeal as quietly as I can, still bouncing. “May I use your phone?”
He barely nods before I dash off to the office and pick up the phone. I have to punch the number in three times because my excitement keeps me from dialing properly. I finally get the number correct and try to sit still while I wait for Daphne to answer the phone.
“Thank you for calling All of—“
“Daphne, it’s me. You found a doctor who can help?”
“I did. You remember that premed guy in our study group for economics class freshman year?”
“Seriously?!” Who remembers all the people in their study groups in all of college, let alone their names? Daphne, that’s who.
“Well, anyway. He interned with a guy who used to do Doctors Without Borders, who happened to—“
“Daphne. I don’t need those details. Who am I reaching out to?”
Thirty years later I finally get the information for a Dr. Wallace out of Daphne and get off the phone with her. I call Dr. Wallace and arrange a time with his nurse for Francis to meet with him. I practically demand the nurse pass on my profuse appreciation for both her and Dr. Wallace. After she agrees, I hang up and make a mad dash out of the clinic. Now I just have to find Marci and arrange transportation for Francis and his family.
I find Marci and Anita talking to the ladies in the kitchen and I realize I’m late. Marci turns, surprised to see me falling behind.
“Marci, I’m sorry I’m late, but I need some help. There is a young man who needs medical attention in the city. I was able to find a doctor who can help him later this week, but he and his parents and I need transportation there and back.”
“Okay. When does he need to go?”
“The doctor has two openings; one tomorrow and one the day after.”
“Okay, the bus should be back tonight. I may be able to get him out first thing in the morning, if he’s ready. But you won’t be able to go with him.”
My excitement deflates a couple of notches.
“I’m sorry I don’t understand.” I really want to be there to make sure Francis gets every bit of the medical attention he needs.
“I can’t guarantee your safety or that his needs will be met before you are set to return home.”
There were too many factors in play that wouldn’t allow me to extend my time here, and now that I understand and really think about it, she’s right. I shouldn’t go, but someone really needs to help fight for the best care of Francis.
“I’ll go,” Anita volunteers. “I can stay with him and his parents. I’ll make sure that they return safe and sound.”
She gives me an encouraging smile and there is something in her eyes that says she will be just the person to do this for me. Her short stature and fierce look tells me she has the kind of spunk and fire that makes her a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention, who wants to upset a pregnant woman? I’m sure that has to be a universal no-no.
“Okay,” I say after mentally deliberating it for a few moments longer. “Would you mind coming with me to tell the family as soon as class is let out?”
Her kind smile does its job of disarming any more of my concerns. “Of course.”
***
It took everything within me to not to tell the girls my good news during lunch. I knew that if I told Nadia about what we were able to do, she would want to go home but she needed to finish her class today since there wasn’t anything she could do this afternoon. Fortunately preparation for today’s lunch was much messier than normal so I used the time while the children ate to help clean up the kitchen. I set about helping with dishes just as soon as they retreated to the classroom to make sure that all the chores were done when it came time to go to Nadia’s home.
We finish with just enough time for Anita and I to have to wait somewhat patiently for the girls to come out of the classroom. It just so happens that Nadia, Flore and Marie are last to exit the building today. All three girls are clasping hands and doing their best to look strong and nearly miss us standing where we are waiting for them. I practically pounce on the girls as soon as they walk out the back door though.
Flore looks up at me with the unspoken question marbled in her eyes. I can only nod, a smile the size of Manhattan growing across my face. Hope explodes through her as she turns to Nadia and starts rambling quickly. Nadia looks up into my eyes, then into Anita’s, her bright eyes lighting up with each second.
“Can we walk you home?” I ask Nadia who nods enthusiastically.
The girls take off at a pace I’m not sure Anita should be traveling at, so we have to shout at them to slow down. The three girls burst out in a fit of giggles, but do slow enough that we can catch up to them. We take a cleared, rich brown dirt path in between many mud covered homes as we weave through the village. The only other color along the path is that of the little grass that grows against the rocky foundations of the homes. We pass a couple of doorways where elderly sit out front, some napping, others greeting the children who have returned from school.
Just when I think we’re going to reach the edge of the village, all three girls duck through a curtained door. Flore remembers we’re following her and she holds the fabric open for us. My enthusiasm caves in on me when I see the interior of the Soule’s home. The room is small an
d dark. A little lantern flickers in the corner where I see a tall teenaged boy lying on a bed, sweat covering his face and arms. He’s lying on his side with his knees pulled up to his chest. He looks like he’s in excruciating pain, but is too exhausted to cry out. A woman who can’t be much older than me, but wears the burden of her years on her face, turns to the outburst of company.
At first she looks angry that the girls are making such a racket, but when she sees Anita and I walk in, her anger turns to alarm. Anita steps forward and starts talking to the woman in the language I still haven’t figured out. I understand a random word here and there and as Anita goes on, the woman’s face goes from concerned to incredulous to thankful. She and Anita both look at me while Anita must be explaining that I was the one who was able to get the help her son so obviously needs. The woman nearly drops the bowl and towel she is holding as she rushes to me and throws her arm around me.
Tears soak my shirt as the lady squeezes my shoulders tightly, chanting her thanks in her native tongue over and over again as I hold her tight.
I’ve only known desperation like hers after my mother passed, but I’ve given this woman something that I didn’t have and that…that sparks something in the depths of my soul. When the woman pulls back, she holds my shoulders and closes her eyes, lifting her face to heaven. It’s in that moment that I’m able to recognize what that spark is.
It’s hope.
The woman says a single word, eyes still closed with tears staining her cheeks, chin tilted toward heaven. And in that one word, this woman’s faith in the Lord becomes palpable, helping me to truly understand God’s faithfulness to us.
Regardless of what the situation is, He has a plan in everything, including an infected appendix or half functioning reproductive system. He has a plan, and while there may be tears and lost sleep and frustration and pain along the way, He will deliver us from whatever is holding us back and redeem us from our burdens. He will make us new and He will use the whole journey we go through to glorify His name.
Because He is good.
All the time.
Chapter Seventeen
~Stephen~
“Three families already? Mom, that’s great news.” I can’t believe in three short days we were already able to get three families seriously interested in adopting a baby from the clinic.
“We also have about six families who want to help sponsor medical needs until the remaining babies are adopted or cured.”
“Oh, wow.” The provision God has given to these babies is rendering me speechless.
“And our church, as well as two others, have a few more couples looking into what it would take to adopt. Obviously anyone who hasn’t started the process already will have some hoops to jump through and that can take time and money. But I’m making sure we’re adamant that each family understands both the physical and financial needs of each child before they proceed with inquiries to the agency.”
“That’s exactly what we need, Mom. Wow. Outstanding work so far. Have you had any inquires about the Dauphine baby?” My question comes out a little too eager.
“Not yet, honey. I’m sorry. Most people who have any knowledge of sickle cell anemia know the long term medical needs she will have and aren’t really prepared to take on anything that extreme. But I did find out that the children’s hospital in Kansas City has the equipment and staff to treat patients with the disease,” she tells me matter-of-factly.
Mixed feelings stir within me as I exhale carefully. Why would anyone want to leave her here knowing she has such special needs?
“Hmm. Okay. Well, really great work so far, Mom. Thank you for working so hard on this. I’m excited to see what else we can get accomplished. I’ll check in with you in a couple of days.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Send Jessie our love,” she says gently.
“Will do, Mom. Love you.”
“You too, honey.”
I hang up the phone and lean against the building a moment to soak in what she just said. I know I had high hopes when I called Mom a few days ago, but I couldn’t have asked for better results. Well actually, I could.
Why hadn’t Baby Dauphine stood out to anyone? She was the main reason I came up with the idea to run this campaign to begin with. And to think that no one has shown any interest in her… it makes me mad. No angry. Like punch a wall angry. This poor baby needs help and she needs to get out of here badly.
What about you?
A quiet voice rings boldly through my head at the same time a gentle wind rustles the leaves of the one tree behind the building, stilling me. The hot afternoon sun shines on my face as I tilt my chin up and think.
What about me?
What could I do?
Honestly, I’m not sure I could take the risk of taking Baby Dauphine home. What if something were to happen to her or Jessie or myself and leave us incapable of being able to properly support her? Would we really be helping her in the end?
But isn’t that what you’re asking others to do?
That thought settles a little too heavily in my chest. Why should I ask anyone else to take risks like that and not be willing to do so myself? But do I really even know what adopting her could mean for us?
Isn’t that something you should consider before you condemn others for dismissing her so quickly.
Okay, so I’m pretty sure God, or my conscious, has a sick sense of humor.
But in all reality, they’re right. I close my eyes and really think about what it would mean for us to bring Baby Dauphine home.
Well for one, our lifestyle would have to change. For a child who is so prone to infections, we would have to carefully consider child care. I heard Isaiah once say that daycares are breeding grounds for viruses and disease. But we might be able to find a nanny or in-home provider we could trust.
Then there is the fact that she will need to be in constant contact with her doctors. Jessie and I both have extremely flexible schedules so surely that couldn’t be too much of a problem?
Then there’s the fact that I know there has to be paperwork and mounds of legal work that needs to be done before we could adopt any baby for that matter. Fortunately, I’ve worked with a few family lawyers, and play ball with one a few times a month. I’m sure we could work something out in exchange for swift legal counsel.
But what about our home. We left Missouri, putting the search for our dream home on standby. We have the space now, but it would require turning our make-shift office into a nursery. And the toys would be everywhere. We’d trip over ourselves…but only until we could find something that would fit us all comfortably.
I start to feel the heat of the Caribbean sun and decide that I need to focus on the most important issue at hand. What will Jessie say? She and I haven’t even thought to explore the possibility of adoption. I don’t even know if Jess would be up to the idea.
There’s only one way to find out.
***
“Hey, LeAnn. How’s she doing today?” I run into kind nurse as I enter the clinic. Lunch was already over at the school, so Jessie should be here helping feed patients. But looking around the infirmary, I don’t see her sitting with anyone.
“She’s good. Breathing so well today, she hasn’t needed any oxygen. Jessie’s in there now, feeding her.” LeAnn smiles at me and excuses herself out.
I take a deep breath and quietly make my way down the short hallway toward the nursery. When I enter, Jessie is laying down Baby Dauphine back into her plastic bassinet, adjusting her blanket to make sure that she’s swaddled snuggly. I sink against the doorframe, watching her take extra care of the delicate baby. She smiles sweetly at the baby girl before walking around the end of the bassinet and turning toward me. Caught a little off guard, she smiles guiltily up at me. I take the few steps toward her and pull her to my chest.
“You’re a natural, you know,” I tell her, kissing her hair. She snuggles my chest and tightens her grip on my waist. Holding her in my arms, I glance over to the sle
eping baby that has my heart and stomach in knots.
“You seem introspective.” Jessie looks up at me. “And a little…sad.”
I lower my brows, wondering how she can hit the nail on the head so well.
“You just sighed and if your eyes were lasers, that poor baby would have worse problems than her breathing right now.”
“She’s not breathing?!” Before I know what I’m doing, I let go of Jess and rush over to Baby Dauphine, carefully pressing two fingers just barely against her chest to check her breathing. It’s shallow, but steady.
“Stephen, she’s fine. Hasn’t needed any additional oxygen at all today.” Jessie seems proud as she repeats LeAnn’s words to me. I look up at her and find her watching Baby Dauphine with something short of motherly pride in her eyes. Now’s the time.
“So I just got off the phone with Mom.”
“Oh.” Jessie looks up at me in anticipation. “Does she have good news?”
“Yes and no. There are three families who are getting in contact with the adoption agency this week. Six more are looking into financially supporting the medical needs of the remaining babies until they can be adopted.”
“Stephen, that’s fantastic news. So, what’s the not-so-good news?” She looks confused as to how there could be any bad news after that.
“No one is looking into a long term solution for her.” I reach back down and rub a thumb over Baby Dauphine’s soft forehead.
“Oh.” Jessie pauses and furrows her brows. “Well, we have a few more days before we head home. We can pray over her and keep searching. I’ll reach out to the team back home and see if they can get the word out. We’ll find something.” Jessie lays a hand on my arm and I look down at her touch, pulling strength from anything for what I’m about to ask.
“You know, this whole experience has me thinking about adoption and if it’s something we could do.” I try to sound encouraging, but my tone comes out serious. Almost too serious.