Babies in Abundance...Kenya Week 3

Any visitor to Karungu will quickly notices the incredible number of children running through the streets, walking home from school, carrying water on their head, or herding cows, donkeys and goats through the streets. Any visitor to St. Camillus Mission Hospital will quickly notice the unbelievable number of children in the pediatric ward suffering from malaria, anemia, horrible burns or any number of childhood diseases. Don’t forget the newborns in the Maternity Ward blessed enough to be born in the hospital as opposed to the mud huts on their homestead. Likewise, an endless number of children shuffle through the Maternal and Child Health Clinic each week for vaccinations and weighing.

This week I witnessed everything from the tragic and unnecessary death of an infant to the miraculous birth of beautiful newborn and nearly everything in between. It began at lunch on Tuesday, when we heard about two more babies admitted to the pediatric ward with horrible burns. They were placed in the unofficial burn section of the pediatric ward next to the three babies that have already been there over a month, two of which have endured brutal amputations to save their lives. I went to visit the pediatric ward in the afternoon to find the nurses gathered together with somber looks shadowing their usually joyful smiles. They pointed to Bed 1 and told me one of the burned babies had passed away moments before. I watched the mother stoically wrap the small child in a blanket, cover his head and carry him out of the ward towards the morgue. Never before had I seen a dead child with my own eyes. There are some things you simply can’t prepare yourself for.

Thankfully Thursday morning offered me a slightly more hopeful outlook for the perilously young of Karungu. Every few months HIV Positive mothers bring their exposed children to the clinic to make sure the children haven’t become infected with the virus. So this Thursday morning consisted of 34 mothers holding their 34 crying babies as Irene and Helen pricked their tiny fingers and dripped their blood onto filter paper. Despite the risks, most of these babies are negative and I thank God the mothers are doing their best to make sure their children stay protected. And once again I thank God for St. Camillus and the priceless services it provides to the community.

The week of babies concluded Friday morning with a double whammy. First, I went on Rounds in the Pediatric Ward with Dr. Jimmy, Dr. David, and Medical School student Tony. Rounds consist of visiting each patient, checking their progress and deciding the next course of action. The lucky kids are patted on the back and told they’re ready to be discharged. The less lucky kids get comforting smiles and continue with their Malaria medication, antibiotics, fluids intake, etc. The unlucky ones get concerned looks between the doctors and lengthy discussions about what to do next.
After two and a half hours, twenty something sick kids, and a mix of heartbreaks and smiles, I was ready to head back to the Maternal and Child Health Clinic. I decided to stop by the Theater (the Operating Room in American English) to say hello to the nurses. As good (or bad) timing would have it, nurse Christy rolled a pregnant woman into the Theater for an emergency C-section. With a low fetal heart beat they decided to get the baby out before it was too late. I asked the doctors if I could stay to watch and they happily agreed. After helping the nurses set up then eagerly/anxiously watching the incredible procedure, I was blessed to witness my first birth. Despite all expectations of the nurses and doctors, the baby boy came out kicking and screaming. The tension in the operating room quickly transformed into a huge sigh of relief as the healthy baby took in its first lung full of air. I couldn’t stop the tears welling up in my eyes and allowed myself to fully appreciate the beauty of the moment. I find it hard to comprehend that the miracle of birth happens thousands of times every single day.

With the entire world stacked against them, it’s truly a miracle to see any baby survive to the age of five unscathed by the harsh realties of poverty. Sadly not all make it through. In my small way, I think I’m helping. By making sure babies get their vaccines on time or weigh enough according to their age, maybe I can help just one baby avoid a fatal disease or waste away from malnutrition. In the meantime, holding three year old John in my lap during Mass and spinning Reagan through the air as he squeals with joy reminds me that I’m not here to save the world. I’m here to love those around me with all my being and praise God for the incredible blessings He has lavished upon me.