Patience Now Rests In The Everlasting Arms Of God

Dear Friends

This is a difficult story to tell, as it was an equally difficult day to live thru, but all the stories; the experiences of my life as a missionary, are equal in God’s eyes. They are all stories of attempting to live my life thru Him who made me, thru Him who Called me, thru Him who sent me to St. Francis Hospital-Mutolere, Uganda, in the first place.

It was a typical Thursday morning at Public Health, immunizing babies and pregnant women. When from the corner of my eye, I noticed a newborn baby lying listless in her mothers arms. She had just been weighed and was now at my station to receive the required injection for protection against TB, as well as oral Polio vaccine.

One look said she was not well but when asked by Mom, she only stated that the baby had been born at home 4 days ago and started to have a slight cough three days ago.

The nursing staff, including Sr. Justine, spoke to her about keeping the baby warm and it was suggested she take her to the Outpatient Dept., for evaluation, but the mother just laughed nervously and said she didn’t have any money. In retrospect, I realize the mother simply didn’t “get” how fragile and sick her newborn was, and , I imagine, thought we were making a big to-do about nothing..

I took Mom and baby to Pediatrics to be seen by Dr. Lou Coda and what concerned him initially was that the baby’s body temp was so low (31.8 C) when it needed to be above 35 C. He said if the hypothermia could not be dealt with soon, he would need to put the baby in the Incubator in the nursery.

Mom and baby and student nurse Edwinah carried the baby to my home where we put the baby skin to skin on her Mama, then wrapped a blanket around them, with a hot water bottle nestled among the blanket.. After some time, we gave the baby a warm bath, I baptized her “ Patience” per Mom’s request, wrapped her in warm clothes + in new cozy blankets, that had just arrived with the Coda family as gifts from the Woman’s Auxiliary of MDA(Mission Dr. Association).and nestled her close to her Mom until Dr. Lou could re-check her.

By this time I noticed that though we had raised her body temperature, her breathing was intermittently erratic and her tiny fingers were tinged in blue.

It was a very busy day for Dr. Lou and he did not come home for lunch until 3pm. When he saw her condition he had Bernedette, my helper, translate to the Mom, that her baby was very ill and needed to be in the Nursery and started on medication immediately if there was any hope to treat the pneumonia and subsequent hypoxia.

When we arrived in Maternity, there was no one able to attend to the baby as they were involved in a critical delivery. Also, I noticed there was already a tiny preemie in the incubator So I heated water for the hot water bottle, snuggled the baby cocoon style, which is the way it’s been done here for years, often with very positive results-;Michael being a prime example.. Then we waited.: for a nurse to be available to start an IV and Dr. Lou to order the needed drugs.

Telling the specifics of our activities is one thing but explaining the emotions involved is quite another. I am in a small room with an apparently stoic Mom with whom I can not communicate verbally, who by this time “got” that her baby was gravely ill.. There is no nursing staff available, it is just the three of us and God (O, and I forgot to mention a wrapped corpse of a dead baby awaiting someone to pick up the body).

I would put the cocoon wrapped baby in her mother’s arms, ostensibly to try and nurse her baby, but in truth so she may be held by the arms that had held her for four days, against the body in which she had been lovingly carried for 9 months.

Dr. Lou ordered the medication but shortly after, as I was telling the newly arrived Sr. Vastina (Charge Nurse of Maternity), the story, the baby gently expired. It was so quick, so instant; one minute breathing, the next not. So un-American—no heroics, no attempt to breathe life back into the child. So culturally and medically different from what I was used to --- yet--- somehow more holy, more in tune with the rhythm of life .and death that beats incessantly, here in Uganda, like an African drum.

After Sr’s Bonnie and Vastina wrapped Baby Patience’s body in the same cloth in which her mother had carried her to the hospital on her back earlier that day, a boda boda(motorcycle driver) was hired to carry them home. Mama wrapped her shawl around them both and I watched them leave the hospital grounds as tears streamed down my face.

My tears were for the loss of a baby soul that only lived four days on this earth and only graced my life for some 7+ hours, my tears were for the mother as she returned to her village + her other 4 children, to bury their baby sister. My tears were also tears of gratitude for Dr. Lou , Sr.’s Bonnie and Vastina, my helper Bernedette, Nursing student Edwinah, that their respect for this little one was so great, so palpable, so generous, that the angels in heaven. must have been in awe..

As I walked home I picked a perfect white flower,which I added to the withered pink rose,in my room. The pink rose to represent her baby female body, the vibrant white flower to represent her undying baby spirit .

Patience now rests in the Everlasting Arms of the Eternal God (Deut. Xxxiii.27.)