Two

On Sabbath we lost one of our quadruplets to pneumonia. I was still in Zanzibar, so I heard the news when I returned Sunday night. It was sad to hear, but my biggest concern was comforting Davona. I hadn't had the chance to get attached to Quinn. He was only about 6 weeks old and spent his 4 weeks at CoL at Davona's home because he was too little to be around the big kids and all their germs.

But today we lost another. I was in the office early this morning talking to my dad and a close friend on Skype. I often wake up early to try to Skype with the people I love. Davona rushed through the office around 7am and into the baby home, barely acknowledging me. A few minutes later she came back in and asked me to take 3 babies to the hospital. I drove the babies and their nannies to the nearest clinic. It was still so early I was surprised it was open. Molly looked oh-so-sick. We waited on a bench for I'm not sure what, but then Molly's eyes rolled back and we demanded that the nurse take her and look at her. Everything was happening in Swahili. I realized that Molly had malaria and was probably entering the fatal comatose stage. I was right. Maybe half an hour after we arrived (or possibly less), we were given the news that she had died. I didn't know how to react, but before I could think of what to do or say, I started to cry. Molly's nanny was bawling next to me. I actually don't know the word for the type of crying...not weeping, not hysterics...just pain. The other two babies are still at the hospital on IV drips for severe dehydration due to diarrhea. I am sure they will be fine. They don't have malaria and they didn't look nearly as sick as Molly looked, even yesterday.

I took the nannies back to CoL, leaving the babies at the hospital with our nurse. Then I brought back another volunteer who agreed to stay with our nurse and the babies. The nurse and I put Molly in the car and I drove, alone and zoned out, back to the baby home. I carried Molly into Davona's office and sat there, holding her. I tried to close her eyes. She seemed more peaceful that way. She wasn't cold yet. She didn't smell like anything other than spit-up and normal baby smells. I held her until Davona came into the office. Something about Davona's arrival snapped me back into awareness and I realized I need to check on the other malaria babies and make sure they were keeping their medicine down. The head nanny assured me they were.

Molly was buried this morning in the corner of our property. I didn't attend the burial. It was too much for me. She was abandoned so we had no one to inform of her death. She turned 2 months old yesterday. She came to us naked and still sticky from birth, weighing only 4.3 lbs. Since then she had grown into a beautiful, healthy-sized little baby, thanks to Davona's loving care (Like Quinn, Molly stayed at Davona's house until recently). It is so sad to lose a healthy baby to malaria. We are all upset and frustrated and the home seems blanketed in a somber mood, though we have to put on a face for the other children. They have no idea what happened.

Today I started tutoring Davona's daughters in Algebra 1. It was nice to have something to focus on other than Molly's death.

Please pray for the baby home and pray for Davona. I am handling this all ok, but naturally she is very sad.