And when the Lord saw...

    In my last post I shared about a day where we saw four children die. Earlier this week, 6 people passed away in a single shift. It is impossible not to be affected by this brokenness- and this manifests itself in a myriad of conflicting, constantly changing ways. My faith solidifies while my heart aches while my hope wavers while my comradery deepens while cynicism creeps in while I'm being emptied out while I'm filled only by Him. 

But in the midst of all this mess, the Lord allowed us to witness a miracle. 

    The door slammed and a woman rushed into the hospital carrying a bundle of African cloth. We rushed her to the ER area. I unfolded the cloth and saw a freshly born, cold, lifeless, premature baby. We started CPR, but in the darkest part of my heart, I was cynical. We see this too often with too many poor results. I thought it was pointless and wondered why we should even try. 

    After a little while, we got a heart rate back and she started breathing. With a lot of trepidation, we moved her into my ward. She was alive for the moment, but would it last? With an obviously traumatic birth, what brain damage had been done? At the end of the day, I just could not get her to warm up, and our incubator wasn't working well. No one was there with her, so with much awkward maneuvering of breathing tubes, IV lines, and monitor cables, I lifted the 3 pound baby and put her in the top of my tunic to try skin to skin care. We sat there for a while as I finished my charting. 

     The next day she was still there. And she had purposeful movements.

     The next day she was still there and her oxygen needs were decreasing. We did skin to skin care again as there was still nobody with her at the bedside. 

     The next day, I found out that the woman who had given birth to her was unable to care for her, and she was essentially an orphan. 

     The next day, I was at her bedside with the doctor who had revived her (who also happens to be my roommate), and we talked about how she was a miracle. She was estimated to be around 32 weeks gestation, and had come to us lifeless. This baby had been dead dead, but she was now opening her eyes, moving around, tolerating formula, and weaning off oxygen with no apparent brain damage. We prayed for her together, and my roomie suggested that we give her a name. Off the top of my head, I suggested Leah. It's one of my favorite names. My roommate said, "Yes. Because the Lord saw the Leah of Scripture even when she was unloved, and He cared for her."  

Leah around 5 days old

    The name stuck. And Leah kept doing well. Team members came during their free time to hold her and feed her. As the hospital employees learned about her situation, they started to call her Leah as well. Slowly, she got off oxygen and took feeds on her own. Over time, she started to amass a collection of baby clothes and hats...She even has a pair of tights- which are incredibly impractical but ridiculously cute.

I can't even with the tights...

    

    Fast forward to now. Leah is about 38 weeks and weighs just about 5 pounds. She is the queen of the hospital and boy, does she know it. Her crib sits at the nurses station where she is doted on by nearly every hospital employee. She now believes this is her right, and is incredibly spoiled. Sometimes she disappears for hours on end as the maternity nurses steal her for a couple of hours. It's a common occurrence for someone to chart with one hand and feed her a bottle with the other. An employee bathes her almost every night, and I truly believe she is the most photographed baby in Togo. 

     Here's my favorite part. The Togolese government gave my roommate permission to search for people who would be willing to adopt Leah. A couple weeks ago, a man from a Christian family came to meet Leah and talk to government officials about adoption. I got to be there as he met his future daughter. At the moment, he was a little afraid to hold her because she was so small, but he asked if we could pray for her. Together, we prayed for Leah and thanked the Lord for her life and for the blessing that she has been. Please pray for Leah's adoption process and the potential hurdles that must be jumped before she can go home. 

     I am profoundly thankful for the possibility that Leah will grow up in a Christian family that will love her. I am profoundly thankful for the joy that she has brought me and everyone in the hospital over the last several weeks. I am profoundly grateful that she came along to humble me and teach me a lesson about not losing hope- because God can perform miracles. 

My miracle