Birthdays Abound

Today is Andrea's 11th birthday.  Like Ashleigh, Andrea is a miracle baby.  She was born prematurely as the 7th child to a 23 year-old mom.  By the time I first laid eyes on her, she had suffered a great deal.

Andrea's birth mother brought her to the mission clinic on October 12, 1994. I slipped out the door to sign up the patients and the young woman was standing there holding a small bundle.  She told me it was her daughter and she was sick.  We took patients in order of arrival and she was about the sixth or seventh that morning.  I couldn't take my eyes off the bundle.  I wanted to squeeze her in right away.  The doctor asked me not to, but each time I went out, my eyes searched for her.  When it was her turn, I couldn't find her!  I thought she had left in despair.  Women started calling to her and she came from the other end of the building.

We placed the baby on the examination table and opened the blanket.  Dr. Ramon took off her clothes and drew in a breath.  The baby's face was ashen and she looked more like a tiny monkey than a real baby.  Just a little over 7 months old and she weighed just 2 kilos - under 5 lbs!  She was emaciated and you could see all of her bones.  Even her butt bones were prominent.  I felt like I was going to cry.  I whispered to the doctor in English to ask the woman to let me take the baby home with me to nourish her.  "You're crazy!" he said.  "This baby will be dead in a day or two.  You can't take her home.  You don't know what the government will do if she dies in your home."  I didn't care.  I told him to ask her anyway.  With a stern look, he talked to her.  "Your baby will soon die.  My "nurse" wants to take her to her home to make her comfortable."  The mother's eyes looked at me pleadingly, "Oh, si, por favor!"  Yes, please help.

I took her home.  She was so tiny!  I know the Lord must have put that strong desire on my heart.  I couldnt let the baby die.  Dr. Ramon gave me medicine in case she started vomiting as her mother said she had.  I had to inject it into a muscle.  There was no fat, no spare place on her body, so I hoped against hope she would not vomit.  I fed her with a syringe because she could not suck.  Just a few cc's, but she puked like it was tons!  I drew up the medicine in the syringe and put it in her little thigh.  About 30 seconds after I withdrew the needle, the tiny baby screamed!  She was angry!  How could someone punch that thing in her leg?  I knew she would survive!

There are many parts of Andrea's story to tell.  I never planned to adopt her.  I didn't know I would love her so or that her mother would not be able to care for her. 

This little angel has made a place in our lives.  She has brought us such joy.  The miracle of her survival is our miracle.  How she came back after her mother took her again is a miracle.  The long years of the adoption process have come and gone and now she is a part of the American dream. Our future is bright.  Her future is bright.

Andrea, we love you more than you will ever know.  Love, Dad and Mom