Children, Children Everywhere

Thank you so much for your prayers! We are doing well here. Learning how to be the parents of infants. Beginning to get a little bit more sleep. It is still pretty crazy in our house, but hey, life would be boring without a little chaos. We are now down to 7 children staying with us, and a few of them are nearly healthy enough to go home now as well.

An update on Shaquille: Through a contact at a local orphanage, Renee has found a hospital in Entebbe, Uganda, that does cleft palate surgeries! It is a good hospital (sometimes hard to find here), and the surgery is performed frequently there. Hopefully in the next few weeks, Shaquille will be taken in for a consultation. The surgery should follow not too long after. Meanwhile, Shaquille seems to be settling into life here. Our nightguard’s young daughters love to hold him, he has been drinking massive amounts of F75 and nutrient-enriched milk, and he only woke me up every 2 ½ hours last night to eat.

I now have only 8 days left here in Uganda. I feel somewhat like I will be giving up custody of my children at the end of that time. My favorite moments here mostly involve sitting on the floor of our house, playing with the children who are staying with us and watching them become healthy and happy. Two year old Faith was emaciated and silent when I arrived 2 months ago. A month before that, she was so sick that she was near death. Now, beautiful little Faith is a chubby toddler who just spent 15 minutes singing and racing around in circles with a washcloth on her head, just because she knew it would make us laugh.

Ashfat, age 4, arrived here a few weeks ago with limbs swollen from malnutrition. Since then, we have been through many sleepless nights of feeding him F75 and trying desperately to keep his fever down. He has had a blood transfusion and several days in the hospital receiving treatment for severe malaria. We have cleaned up what feels like infinite amounts of vomit and diarrhea from him. Yet, watching him climb the stairs by himself today made it all worth it. He has begun to sing “Pharaoh, Pharaoh” enthusiastically when he thinks we’re not listening. And his adorable smile never fails to remind me that God is present, God is in control, and God is infinitely good.

When we step outside our gate, children come running, yelling “Auntie Elly! Auntie Renee! Auntie Eileenie!” (‘Eileenie’ is their version of Heidi—not sure why that’s easier to say…) They flock to us and hold tightly to our hands/arms/backs as we attempt to walk through the village. I love learning their names and faces, and I especially love taking slow walks through Masese, pausing to play and sing with them. I have come to the conclusion that a “language barrier” is only such if you acknowledge its presence. It is astonishing what one can communicate with a smile, a high five, and a silly song.

When I get back to the United States, I am definitely going to need to find some children to play with…