Hello my friends!
You know those live moving pictures you can capture on an iphone? The ones that make me think Harry Potter may be real? Thinking back, 2019 was a series of mental live photos- not necessarily the highlight reel, big events, or specific moments- but the mental snapshots that comprise a picture of the past crazy, wonderful, full, delightful, challenging year.
2019 was reaching into an isolette and readjusting a baby's oxygen mask and slowly pushing 2mls of milk through their feeding tube
Staying up late, sitting on the floor of my house with constantly dirty feet, learning and playing new music with my roommates
Belly laughing at the kitchen table with my family long after the meal was finished
It was standing in a hot classroom and stumbling through French grammar (and pronunciation and vocabulary) while attempting to explain nursing concepts
Getting hand cramps and ink smudges while completing my paper charting during my contract position in the States
Posing in odd and unique positions in public areas to help start up Recreate Photo Hunt (shameless plug for recreatephotohunt.com!!)
2019 was becoming a human jungle gym for the world's most amazing missionary kids
Rolling dice to determine my fate as a half-elven ranger in a summer-long D&D campaign
Eating abysmal amounts of stove-top popcorn while playing euchre
Wiping the drops of sweat out of my eyes while starting an IV on a seizing child
It was cheering and clapping for my Togolese friends playing pick-up sticks for the first time
Reaching out to hold the hand of the mother who just lost her child
Squinting and blinking the dust out of my eye as I bumped over sandy, potholey, red roads on my motorcycle
Awakening to the sound of my bedroom door opening and feeling the sudden weight of my dog jumping on my back for a morning snuggle
2019 was sitting around a full table eating waffles, drinking coffee, and attempting to be a part of all three conversations at once
It's been a good year. Thank you everyone who contributed to my 2019. 2020 is looking bright. Happy New Year everyone!
In Him,
-C-
Thursday, January 2, 2020
Friday, December 13, 2019
Ask
Gary Chapman might not have included it on his list, but one of my main love languages is Asking Questions. I feel like it's an incredible way of showing people you value them. On most nights, my roommates and I ask a 'question of the day' which then turns into a discussion lasting past our bedtimes. My mom sends me questions to answer on a regular basis in addition to our normal conversations, and I feel so loved.
I've found that asking meaningful questions can be difficult when you're living across the world. I don't know what you did this weekend or what was making you stressed out this week or where you're going for Christmas or how the renovations on your house are moving along. If I do get an update of how your life is going, it's generally the highlights or abbreviated version. I miss a lot of the details. I think that goes for most long-distance relationships unless you're talking pretty darn regularly. While I don't think this is a bad thing on its own, it does mean I have to try harder to ask good questions.
While being home this summer, I had opportunities to talk to lots of people about my time in Togo. I told lots of people about the wild hippos I saw and the street food I tried and how hot it gets. But to be brutally honest, lots of times the conversation would stop there. It felt like there was so much to say, it was hard to even start.
I am coming home for Christmas and will stay for 3 weeks. I don't normally write blogs like this, but I'm gonna ask you to do something for me. If we chat over the holidays or if you write me a facebook message or if you support any other missionary, ask questions.
Ask to hear about something encouraging and you might hear about the Bible study my roommate started at a sewing school for girls coming from troubled backgrounds. You might hear about how they are hearing familiar Bible stories for the first time and how they acted out the Nativity.
Ask what has been challenging and maybe you'll hear about teaching the new aides or stalling my new moto or being patient with a mama who doesn't really love her precious baby.
Ask how God has been working and you'll hear about my student who had tears in his eyes when being presented with the Gospel. You could hear about how my heart is being challenged to be more obedient and humble. Or the woman who had been discipled in prison for the past 3 years and last month was set free.
Ask what projects are in the works and you'll probably get a different answer each time.
Ask about cultural experiences and I'll show you the picture of the baby on my back or cooking a Togolese dish in a Togolese home.
Ask about a recent adventure and I could tell you about moto rides or getting a new cat or mishaps in market or teaching P.E. to 20 missionary kids every week.
Ask about the people who mean a lot to me. I could talk for hours about my 4 year old BFF or my roomies or my neighbors or coworkers or my special patients or my incredible teammates.
I don't think the specific questions matter as much as just asking. And ask other missionaries questions too. It is encouraging to be remembered and I believe it honors God when we share stories of how He is working. Thank you all for being so supportive. Hope to see a bunch of you when I'm Stateside!
Because they haven't heard,
-C-
I've found that asking meaningful questions can be difficult when you're living across the world. I don't know what you did this weekend or what was making you stressed out this week or where you're going for Christmas or how the renovations on your house are moving along. If I do get an update of how your life is going, it's generally the highlights or abbreviated version. I miss a lot of the details. I think that goes for most long-distance relationships unless you're talking pretty darn regularly. While I don't think this is a bad thing on its own, it does mean I have to try harder to ask good questions.
While being home this summer, I had opportunities to talk to lots of people about my time in Togo. I told lots of people about the wild hippos I saw and the street food I tried and how hot it gets. But to be brutally honest, lots of times the conversation would stop there. It felt like there was so much to say, it was hard to even start.
I am coming home for Christmas and will stay for 3 weeks. I don't normally write blogs like this, but I'm gonna ask you to do something for me. If we chat over the holidays or if you write me a facebook message or if you support any other missionary, ask questions.
Ask to hear about something encouraging and you might hear about the Bible study my roommate started at a sewing school for girls coming from troubled backgrounds. You might hear about how they are hearing familiar Bible stories for the first time and how they acted out the Nativity.
Ask what has been challenging and maybe you'll hear about teaching the new aides or stalling my new moto or being patient with a mama who doesn't really love her precious baby.
 |
| Aides practicing CPR |
Ask what projects are in the works and you'll probably get a different answer each time.
Ask about cultural experiences and I'll show you the picture of the baby on my back or cooking a Togolese dish in a Togolese home.
 |
| Cooking a Togolese meal |
 |
| Remember my twin? She's 8 months now! |
Ask about a recent adventure and I could tell you about moto rides or getting a new cat or mishaps in market or teaching P.E. to 20 missionary kids every week.
 |
| On a moto ride |
Ask about the people who mean a lot to me. I could talk for hours about my 4 year old BFF or my roomies or my neighbors or coworkers or my special patients or my incredible teammates.
I don't think the specific questions matter as much as just asking. And ask other missionaries questions too. It is encouraging to be remembered and I believe it honors God when we share stories of how He is working. Thank you all for being so supportive. Hope to see a bunch of you when I'm Stateside!
Because they haven't heard,
-C-
Sunday, November 10, 2019
Qualified
As a kid, I thought that there would be a point in life when I'd suddenly be a functional adult. Some birthday would pass, and I would magically wake up knowing how to buy a house, how much to pay for beef, and reading the terms and conditions before I accepted them. Now I'm in my mid to late 20s and as a 'full-fledged adult', I often find myself looking around for an adultier adult who actually knows how to adult. It was a similar feeling the first time I took care of my own patients as a nurse- when there wasn't anybody watching over me to make sure I didn't make a mistake. I feigned confidence, but if there was a problem, I was ready to run and get the 'real' nurse. It took time to realize that was, in fact, me.
This past year, I've come to accept that feeling as my continual state of being. At the Hospital of Hope, there aren't specialized teams for codes, IVs, chemotherapy, respiratory treatments, procedures, or EKGs. Though I might feel inadequately prepared, it lands back on me, so I guess that makes me qualified. My first big project since returning to Togo is training and preparing a new class of nurses aides for the hospital. Ultimately, it's up to me to create the schedule, calendar, and content for the entirety of their training. Last week they started shadowing in the hospital, and so I came to greet them and help orient them on their first day at their new job. It was incredibly daunting to walk up, meet, greet, instruct, and then supervise in another language. Yet, when it comes down to it, someone put me in charge, so I approached them with all of the fake confidence I could muster. Tomorrow they start their classroom teaching, and while I have prepared as much as I possibly can, I still feel like there should be an adultier adult around who's actually in charge. Another opportunity I have this year is to teach P.E. once a week to 20+ MKs ages 6-14ish. I find this particularly funny because as a homeschooler, I never once set foot in an actual P.E. class. But, I am willing, so we're gonna pretend I can do it.
This continual state of feeling unqualified but doing it anyway has changed me. I'm not always successful, and I make so many mistakes, but I have grown. I feel more comfortable in my own weaknesses and have relied on God more when I face things that are daunting. And when I don't measure up to what I hope for or expect, I am still a child of God and that's pretty great.
However, all this has made me wonder... does anyone actually ever feel truly qualified? When does that happen? How does that happen? Or is the world just full of people pretending that they know what they're doing?
Let me know if you figure it out :)
-C-
This past year, I've come to accept that feeling as my continual state of being. At the Hospital of Hope, there aren't specialized teams for codes, IVs, chemotherapy, respiratory treatments, procedures, or EKGs. Though I might feel inadequately prepared, it lands back on me, so I guess that makes me qualified. My first big project since returning to Togo is training and preparing a new class of nurses aides for the hospital. Ultimately, it's up to me to create the schedule, calendar, and content for the entirety of their training. Last week they started shadowing in the hospital, and so I came to greet them and help orient them on their first day at their new job. It was incredibly daunting to walk up, meet, greet, instruct, and then supervise in another language. Yet, when it comes down to it, someone put me in charge, so I approached them with all of the fake confidence I could muster. Tomorrow they start their classroom teaching, and while I have prepared as much as I possibly can, I still feel like there should be an adultier adult around who's actually in charge. Another opportunity I have this year is to teach P.E. once a week to 20+ MKs ages 6-14ish. I find this particularly funny because as a homeschooler, I never once set foot in an actual P.E. class. But, I am willing, so we're gonna pretend I can do it.
This continual state of feeling unqualified but doing it anyway has changed me. I'm not always successful, and I make so many mistakes, but I have grown. I feel more comfortable in my own weaknesses and have relied on God more when I face things that are daunting. And when I don't measure up to what I hope for or expect, I am still a child of God and that's pretty great.
 |
| New nursing aides learning to chart vitals |
Let me know if you figure it out :)
-C-
Sunday, October 20, 2019
Like Riding a Bike
Hey friends!
I have been back in Togo for nearly two weeks and immediately felt welcomed back into the special community that this place has offered me. I moved back into my old room and put my things back in their spot. The call to prayer sounds outside my window five times a day and is my personal reminder to pray for the people who live all around me without the hope of Jesus. I hopped back on a moto and hear the familiar chant of 'Batule' (white person) everywhere I go. I'm back to wearing long skirts and sweating 95% of the day. My relationships with neighbors, coworkers, and teammates have picked up right where they left off, and new friendships are already forming. I'm in the preliminary, prioritizing, and planning phases of a plethora of projects. My feet are constantly dirty and there's a mouse living in my roommate's drawer, so nothing has really changed. It's good to be back.
It's not always easy though. My first full day back in the hospital was a slap in my face reminder of the realities of healthcare in Africa. We coded and lost three patients. One of the isolettes holding a set of premature twins was swarmed by ants crawling on the tiny bodies despite multiple thorough cleanings and me frantically trying to block them from getting in. I gave chemo, hung blood, measured meds, and fed five babies every three hours. By the end of the day, I was discouraged and exhausted. But here's the thing. After work, I was invited to dinner with friends where a full plate was put in front of me and the conversation had me laughing again within minutes. That night, I turned on worship songs and flipped to the passages in Scripture where God promises that He is good, that He is with us, and that there is hope. A day that reminded me of all the tragedy I see in Togo also reminded me that we weren't made for this world and that there is a better one coming.
Days that are the hardest are also the days when I draw closer to God and am thus even more grateful for the good days. After living in a third-world country away from everything that was familiar, my time in the past few months with family and friends and the comforts of life back home was that much sweeter. Change can be hard, but it teaches me how to embrace the old along with the new. Whether the day reveals our desperate need for heaven or gives us a tiny glimpse of how it might look, we can live with hope and expectation.
Thanks for checking back in!
I'll be around :)
Because they haven't heard,
-C-
I have been back in Togo for nearly two weeks and immediately felt welcomed back into the special community that this place has offered me. I moved back into my old room and put my things back in their spot. The call to prayer sounds outside my window five times a day and is my personal reminder to pray for the people who live all around me without the hope of Jesus. I hopped back on a moto and hear the familiar chant of 'Batule' (white person) everywhere I go. I'm back to wearing long skirts and sweating 95% of the day. My relationships with neighbors, coworkers, and teammates have picked up right where they left off, and new friendships are already forming. I'm in the preliminary, prioritizing, and planning phases of a plethora of projects. My feet are constantly dirty and there's a mouse living in my roommate's drawer, so nothing has really changed. It's good to be back.
It's not always easy though. My first full day back in the hospital was a slap in my face reminder of the realities of healthcare in Africa. We coded and lost three patients. One of the isolettes holding a set of premature twins was swarmed by ants crawling on the tiny bodies despite multiple thorough cleanings and me frantically trying to block them from getting in. I gave chemo, hung blood, measured meds, and fed five babies every three hours. By the end of the day, I was discouraged and exhausted. But here's the thing. After work, I was invited to dinner with friends where a full plate was put in front of me and the conversation had me laughing again within minutes. That night, I turned on worship songs and flipped to the passages in Scripture where God promises that He is good, that He is with us, and that there is hope. A day that reminded me of all the tragedy I see in Togo also reminded me that we weren't made for this world and that there is a better one coming.
Days that are the hardest are also the days when I draw closer to God and am thus even more grateful for the good days. After living in a third-world country away from everything that was familiar, my time in the past few months with family and friends and the comforts of life back home was that much sweeter. Change can be hard, but it teaches me how to embrace the old along with the new. Whether the day reveals our desperate need for heaven or gives us a tiny glimpse of how it might look, we can live with hope and expectation.
Thanks for checking back in!
I'll be around :)
Because they haven't heard,
-C-
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| I found my twin! |
 |
| A game of pick up sticks with my neighbors- they get very competitive ;) |
Wednesday, August 28, 2019
There and Back Again
Family, friends, and friends who are more like family,
Exactly 1 year ago, I left for Togo- completely naive to how much I would be stretched and how God would use those 10 months to teach me so much. It was hard. It was hot. It was heartbreaking at times. My life was enriched in unexpected and significant ways. Since being back in the States, I have had the opportunity to share with many people some of the things that God is doing in Togo. And while I fit right back in at home, I still felt strongly that my time in Togo was not finished. In the midst of the conversations and prayers that followed, it made a lot of sense to go back to Togo sooner rather than later. I don't think this is too much of a surprise to most people, but I am so happy to tell you that I am headed back to Togo in October for approximately 6 months.
My time there will look slightly different since the students I worked with this past year graduated and started working in June. In the upcoming months, there are a number of projects that I'll tackle which are focused on continuing nurse education and hospital system improvements. The hospital has grown and served over 50,000 patients since it opened in 2015. My hope is that I can help to make things continue to run smoothly as the hospital provides high quality care for the coming years. I will also continue working in the hospital 2-3 days/week as well as investing in relationships with the Togolese.
Ready for the other foot to drop? Well, guess what. I'm not fundraising! How is that you ask? Well, the money you so generously donated to me last year was more than enough for my 10 months there, and is very nearly enough to cover the next six months. The rest will be self-funded, and I am blessed. That being said, some people have expressed a desire to support the ministry and the hospital, so if you are feeling led, here are some links to specific and worthy funds.
-If you donate to my account, I will either use the money for personal ministry or
for a project in which I'm involved https://www.abwe.org/work/missionaries/caroline-klingbeil
-Benevolent fund to support the care of patients who don't have the means to pay for their
hospital bill https://www.abwe.org/work/projects/hope-patient-care-fund
- Support the fund for pediatric care at the Hospital of Hope
https://www.abwe.org/work/projects/hoh-togo-pediatric-care
-Fund the Christian schools in Togo which include a new school opening in Mango in
2020. https://www.abwe.org/work/projects/bible-baptist-schools-togo
Thank you all for your continued support. I have heard from so many people who have told me they've been praying for me. This makes it both easier and harder to leave again, but I am so humbled and grateful. I would ask you to continue to pray. Pray that God will be glorified in Togo, for safe travel and health, for the ministry at the hospital, and for my relationships with the Togolese. Thank you all.
Because they haven't heard,
Caroline
Exactly 1 year ago, I left for Togo- completely naive to how much I would be stretched and how God would use those 10 months to teach me so much. It was hard. It was hot. It was heartbreaking at times. My life was enriched in unexpected and significant ways. Since being back in the States, I have had the opportunity to share with many people some of the things that God is doing in Togo. And while I fit right back in at home, I still felt strongly that my time in Togo was not finished. In the midst of the conversations and prayers that followed, it made a lot of sense to go back to Togo sooner rather than later. I don't think this is too much of a surprise to most people, but I am so happy to tell you that I am headed back to Togo in October for approximately 6 months.
My time there will look slightly different since the students I worked with this past year graduated and started working in June. In the upcoming months, there are a number of projects that I'll tackle which are focused on continuing nurse education and hospital system improvements. The hospital has grown and served over 50,000 patients since it opened in 2015. My hope is that I can help to make things continue to run smoothly as the hospital provides high quality care for the coming years. I will also continue working in the hospital 2-3 days/week as well as investing in relationships with the Togolese.
Ready for the other foot to drop? Well, guess what. I'm not fundraising! How is that you ask? Well, the money you so generously donated to me last year was more than enough for my 10 months there, and is very nearly enough to cover the next six months. The rest will be self-funded, and I am blessed. That being said, some people have expressed a desire to support the ministry and the hospital, so if you are feeling led, here are some links to specific and worthy funds.
-If you donate to my account, I will either use the money for personal ministry or
for a project in which I'm involved https://www.abwe.org/work/missionaries/caroline-klingbeil
-Benevolent fund to support the care of patients who don't have the means to pay for their
hospital bill https://www.abwe.org/work/projects/hope-patient-care-fund
- Support the fund for pediatric care at the Hospital of Hope
https://www.abwe.org/work/projects/hoh-togo-pediatric-care
-Fund the Christian schools in Togo which include a new school opening in Mango in
2020. https://www.abwe.org/work/projects/bible-baptist-schools-togo
Thank you all for your continued support. I have heard from so many people who have told me they've been praying for me. This makes it both easier and harder to leave again, but I am so humbled and grateful. I would ask you to continue to pray. Pray that God will be glorified in Togo, for safe travel and health, for the ministry at the hospital, and for my relationships with the Togolese. Thank you all.
Because they haven't heard,
Caroline
Sunday, July 14, 2019
Always
Hey friends,
I've been trying to write this post for about a month now, but I couldn't figure out how. A "final" or "goodbye" Togo post felt like closing the book on a chapter of my life that I wasn't ready to end, so I put it off. There are a few other things that have been a little tricky to figure out....Like my future... And after being back for a month, I'm still not sure where I'm going from here, what my life should look like, or even what I would like my future to look like. Also, It's hard to try to wrap up the last 10 months into a normal conversation. My perspective has understandably changed on a lot of things. It's not that reverse culture shock has been so bad or that I didn't naturally fit back into my routine back home, but I think I've had a hard time figuring out how to talk to people about my time in Togo.
You know those books where it takes about half of the book for the plot to even start? The author needs to take a lot of time to give you context and background so that the reader is truly invested in the story and characters. Sometimes, my experience with talking to people in a passing conversation about life in a different country has been like picking a random chapter out of one of those books and expecting the person to understand what's going on (I was going to give specific examples here, but the only examples I could think of exposed how nerdy I am). This isn't a bad thing, but it's something that I'm continuing to figure out as I try to reacclimate and live fully in the next chapter that life brings.
So, while I stalled on writing, my family had the privilege to go on a cruise to the Bahamas. Let me tell ya, there is quite a stark contrast between Mango, Togo and a cruise ship- they don't have a lot in common. But. I found one thing, so let me tell you a story. Before we left, my sister and I went over a quick checklist of the 'things you don't want to forget to pack for your summer vacation' (passport, phone charger, deodorant, etc.). She reminded me to bring my sunglasses, but what did I forget? My sunglasses. Not a huge deal, but it is minorly inconvenient when you're planning on sunbathing in the Caribbean. When we got to our room, I looked under the bed to see if there was room for our suitcase, and what did I see? A pair of beautiful, plastic, heart-shaped, tween, not-at-all-tacky sunglasses- which I proudly wore throughout the rest of our vacation (see picture below).
I've been trying to write this post for about a month now, but I couldn't figure out how. A "final" or "goodbye" Togo post felt like closing the book on a chapter of my life that I wasn't ready to end, so I put it off. There are a few other things that have been a little tricky to figure out....Like my future... And after being back for a month, I'm still not sure where I'm going from here, what my life should look like, or even what I would like my future to look like. Also, It's hard to try to wrap up the last 10 months into a normal conversation. My perspective has understandably changed on a lot of things. It's not that reverse culture shock has been so bad or that I didn't naturally fit back into my routine back home, but I think I've had a hard time figuring out how to talk to people about my time in Togo.
You know those books where it takes about half of the book for the plot to even start? The author needs to take a lot of time to give you context and background so that the reader is truly invested in the story and characters. Sometimes, my experience with talking to people in a passing conversation about life in a different country has been like picking a random chapter out of one of those books and expecting the person to understand what's going on (I was going to give specific examples here, but the only examples I could think of exposed how nerdy I am). This isn't a bad thing, but it's something that I'm continuing to figure out as I try to reacclimate and live fully in the next chapter that life brings.
So, while I stalled on writing, my family had the privilege to go on a cruise to the Bahamas. Let me tell ya, there is quite a stark contrast between Mango, Togo and a cruise ship- they don't have a lot in common. But. I found one thing, so let me tell you a story. Before we left, my sister and I went over a quick checklist of the 'things you don't want to forget to pack for your summer vacation' (passport, phone charger, deodorant, etc.). She reminded me to bring my sunglasses, but what did I forget? My sunglasses. Not a huge deal, but it is minorly inconvenient when you're planning on sunbathing in the Caribbean. When we got to our room, I looked under the bed to see if there was room for our suitcase, and what did I see? A pair of beautiful, plastic, heart-shaped, tween, not-at-all-tacky sunglasses- which I proudly wore throughout the rest of our vacation (see picture below).
Why the story about sunglasses? Because in the months I spent in Togo, there were countless sunglasses stories. Before I left, I sent out one letter, and in just 6 weeks, I received more than enough support to send me to Togo. I got a large hole in the sole of my tennis shoes, but someone who was leaving gave me an even nicer pair in my exact size the very next day. I lost my bathing suit, but a bathing suit in my size showed up on the free table the next week. I didn't bring enough skin lotion to combat the dry season, and a missionary bought me her favorite kind as a gift. My backpack and flip flops and favorite cami and swimsuit all held out til my very last week in Togo and then fell apart. When I knew absolutely no one in the country, I made lifelong friendships and found incredible community. The day I came home from work with absolutely nothing left, my roommates fixed me a hot plate of food and fresh muffins and asked me to play and sing worship songs until I could smile again. During those days at the hospital where I ran from task to task as fast as my skirt would allow, people showed up at just the right time to help. While teaching a nursing course for the first time in a different language, the students and I all gave and received grace as we communicated and understood each other. In all of the times when I thought I wasn't good enough or was out of my league or that I couldn't do it, there was a 'Rock of Refuge to which I can always go' Psalm 71:3.
He was always there. He was always enough. He always will be.
So in conclusion, one doesn't need sunglasses in order to have a good vacation, and God doesn't have to provide every time I am a ditz and forget, ruin, wear out or lose things. However, He is faithful. As I talk to people about everything I learned in Togo, I can focus on glorifying Him and sharing about the work He is doing. And no matter what the next chapter brings...
"I will always have hope;
I will praise you more and more.
My mouth will tell of your righteous deeds,
of your saving acts all day long—
though I know not how to relate them all.
I will come and proclaim your mighty acts, Sovereign Lord;
I will proclaim your righteous deeds, yours alone.
Since my youth, God, you have taught me,
and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.
Even when I am old and gray,
do not forsake me, my God,
till I declare your power to the next generation,
your mighty acts to all who are to come." Psalm 71:14-18
Saturday, May 18, 2019
Double Trouble
There have been instances throughout my time in Togo where the moment suddenly becomes surreal. It's when I'm doing something that has become 'normal' to me, but then I look around and realize, "whoa. I'm driving my own motorcycle in the 100 degree heat in a tiny country in West Africa. I'm dodging turkeys and donkeys while children loudly chant their word for white person as I enter the market where I will conduct business in a different language with a foreign currency in an outdoor market to buy a limited selection of food which I will then need to bleach before consuming. How did this become normal?"
I had one of those moments yesterday. To understand the background, let me tell you about the twins.
The month of March was really tough at the Hospital of Hope. There were some days where it felt like everything was on the brink of insanity. We lost a lot of kids. There were a couple of cases where things fell apart unexpectedly, and it sometimes felt like we just couldn't win. At the very end of March, premature girl twins born at around 29 weeks showed up at the hospital hours after their delivery. In general, babies that are born that prematurely don't do very well here. We simply don't have the technology to support them when they're that early.
I remember caring for the twins in their first few weeks of life. Weighing in at around 2.4 pounds each, they kept their doctors and nurses busy and as they dealt with infections, malaria, necrotizing enterocolitis, heart defects, feeding problems, and respiratory issues. I prayed for these babies, but I had seen other babies die from each of these diseases, and at multiple occasions, I wondered if I would find them in their isolette the next day.
By the grace of God, the incredible medical staff, and a lot of nursing care, our girls recovered from issue after issue and kept getting stronger.
The tradition here is that babies are named after 8 days, so as the weeks passed by, we got to know H and H as well as their mama, R (who has given permission and loves me taking photos of her babies). R has told me that I can keep the second twin since she stops crying when I hold her and will drink her whole bottle for me. We've prayed together and laughed at the girls making funny faces and cooed over them while trying to get a picture of them smiling.
Now at 37ish weeks and weighing in at a whopping 4.1 and 4.7 pounds, our precious twins are positively fat and doing great. They are slowly starting the process of getting ready to go home. During my shift yesterday, I woke up R and sent her to go pump milk for the next feed. When mama left, I picked up little H off the mat on the floor to put her back in her crib, and I started talking to her.
The moment hit me. Kneeling on the floor alone with my twins, I thanked God for the miracle I held in my hands and for the happy story that I had really needed. I kissed her soft hair and told her that Jesus and I both loved her very much. It was a moment so perfect that it felt surreal. I think every nurse has a few special patients that they remember forever, and these are two of mine. I'm sharing this story as a reminder to me of God's faithfulness and goodness. Also, they're just stinkin' cute, right?
I had one of those moments yesterday. To understand the background, let me tell you about the twins.
I remember caring for the twins in their first few weeks of life. Weighing in at around 2.4 pounds each, they kept their doctors and nurses busy and as they dealt with infections, malaria, necrotizing enterocolitis, heart defects, feeding problems, and respiratory issues. I prayed for these babies, but I had seen other babies die from each of these diseases, and at multiple occasions, I wondered if I would find them in their isolette the next day.
By the grace of God, the incredible medical staff, and a lot of nursing care, our girls recovered from issue after issue and kept getting stronger.
The tradition here is that babies are named after 8 days, so as the weeks passed by, we got to know H and H as well as their mama, R (who has given permission and loves me taking photos of her babies). R has told me that I can keep the second twin since she stops crying when I hold her and will drink her whole bottle for me. We've prayed together and laughed at the girls making funny faces and cooed over them while trying to get a picture of them smiling.
Sisters
Now at 37ish weeks and weighing in at a whopping 4.1 and 4.7 pounds, our precious twins are positively fat and doing great. They are slowly starting the process of getting ready to go home. During my shift yesterday, I woke up R and sent her to go pump milk for the next feed. When mama left, I picked up little H off the mat on the floor to put her back in her crib, and I started talking to her.The moment hit me. Kneeling on the floor alone with my twins, I thanked God for the miracle I held in my hands and for the happy story that I had really needed. I kissed her soft hair and told her that Jesus and I both loved her very much. It was a moment so perfect that it felt surreal. I think every nurse has a few special patients that they remember forever, and these are two of mine. I'm sharing this story as a reminder to me of God's faithfulness and goodness. Also, they're just stinkin' cute, right?
My time in Togo is quickly winding down. I am so grateful for the opportunities, relationships, and experiences I have had here. Living life in a completely new way has taught me so much, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. 10/10 would recommend... but only if you can bear the heat.
Because they haven't heard,
-C-
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