Violcje
The Abandoned Baby ward is a new wing at the hospital.A few caring folks teamed up and gathered what they could to establish this place. Now babies that are not wanted have at least a wing to go to. Yes, the third hand, unwanted, not-really-working incubators for preemies are habited with the hospital cats. And yes, when a new donation of used baby clothing comes in the nurses steal them and sell them on the black market, but the framework is here. It gives us a place to come in and volunteer. A place to come in and love on the nurses, thank them, hug them, value them. They don't know that we know that the only reason they are on this wing is that they are being punished for something the top hospital dog wants to slap them with. So they don't want to be here, and, sadly, this means the babies are getting no care unless our volunteers are here. So it's crucial to build these women up until their hearts want to care. So we are careful to first show them love before we go and love on the babies. We bring them gifts, and slowly it is at least building trust. They are letting us in. That's key. Without them, we might as well continue to hope we can find the babies in the trash before the dogs do.
But they are also frustrating. And it' s not their fault, really. They've had over two generations of indoctrination. An imperfect baby is useless to society. An unwanted or shamefully created baby likewise. And so us coming in and loving the babies, and changing their diapers, feeding them, singing to them, making them mobiles and hanging up pictures is more than curious to them. It's been a process. Finally water was tapped in, and the team got permission to have a hot water heater added. And a sink. And a wall heater in the room. Now we can bathe the infants.
And just in time. Today a maternity nurse came a clonked a naked newborn on the metal counter and spat. He was a half-ling. No one wanted him. He was still covered in blood. Picking him up gently I crooned over him as I filled the sink with warm water. Gently bathing him I glanced around. Yes, there was one empty bed left. We named him Arden. The nurses stood by curious that he has value to us. But then, a few days later, we arrived and Violcje was there.
Violcje is a downs syndrome baby. Her parents first child, we find out. And because she is not perfect, the father won’t acknowledge she exists. The mother is heart broken. Miraculously, one of the volunteers finds the mother. Tearfully, she comes with her to touch her daughter’s hand in the wing. She can see we love her daughter. But now she is caught. She would like to hope that maybe there is a reason to love this child. But she returns the next day. No, her husband is adamant.
And we are encountering resistance. The nurses feel there are too many of us meddling folks. So they give us hours we can come in. We honor that. In the process, however, we discover that we are the only one’s feeding these children. Or changing them. Or touching them. When we aren’t there, the diapers and formula disappear. We have no authority to charge anyone with theft. Even the highest level hospital and national mandates disagree with our world view. Anything imperfect will become a burden to society. Anything unwanted should be disposed of.
And so these newborns are no longer getting the feedings they need to thrive. We can’t find a way around the demeanor and attitude of these women. So we encourage Violcje’s mother to come often and volunteer. If she feeds the child, she could survive.
But, by Monday the little bed is empty. Our momentary hope that the parents changed their minds is dashed. She died, we are told. Allah willed it. This hardly counts as a success story. Except that the father did attend his daughter’s funeral, and the mother chose to start spending time with the volunteers. Yes, sometimes the steps forward seem very small. But if we don’t press in and take the steps, there will be no hope of a Future where this worldview will change.