Happy Anniversary, Brett!

Our 7th anniversary. It's been an adventure. I had no idea all that would happen in 7 short years. Spending our first years in beautiful Charleston. Brett finishing residency and spending two years working in the Peds ER. Me finishing nursing and then nurse practitioner school. Having three kids. Moving to France (with small moves to Chicago and West Virgina- short stents but very memorable). Then to Mali to experience the hardest years of our life! And to top that off, having to deal with the loss of Brett's dad so soon in life. It has been a full 7 years. I'm so thankful that God blessed me with a wonderful companion to go through life with, the good and the hard times. I'm thankful, too, that these challenging years have only stregthened our marrriage and our knowledge of one another and the Lord. You are my best friend, Brett, and I love you! Here's a little rundown of our seven years together...

When it all began. July 27th, 2002

Happy newlyweds in Florida. Feb 2003

Ireland (thanks to my stupid mistake thinking that the MacLeans were Irish, not Scottish...but it was a great trip nonetheless).

The joys of adding to our family. Dawson Cooper. March 27, 2005

Our last day in Charleston. Biking the new bridge. 2006

Albertville, France. August 2006-May 2007

I still don't know why we agreed to wear these outfits, even if it was for a french medieval festival.

Cinque Terre. What a beautiful place! I loved getting to travel Europe together during school breaks.

Just another beautiful picture of Cinque Terre.

Adding to the family again. Kenan Lewis. Jan 1, 2007

Barcelona with a screaming 5 week old. Any trip was with a screaming baby...but it was worth it.

End of our time in France...that's when we thought life had been hard! ha!

After a difficult year in Mali, we went back for furlough to the States...and added to the family again. Silas Donald. September 8, 2008.

Enjoying family time at Teriya Bugu.

And here we are 7 years later all dressed up in Malian clothes to watch two nurses get married. (everyone from the hospital wore the same cloth). Who would have thought 7 years would have aged us so much? :)

Happy Anniversary, Brett! I look forward to seeing what the next 7 or 70 (we can live to 97 and 103, right?) years will bring!

More of the hospital

So we've had some pretty full weeks at the hospital. Lots going on. I often talk about the sad cases we see (like the lady who came for her 36 week appt on Friday and her twins were fine but then on Monday they were both dead thanks to lack of hypertension medicine that we were out of and no one followed through to make sure she took something. I just wanted to bawl as we prayed with her before she started delivering her dead twins. So sad!) but there are some neat cases as well where the Lord's name can be truly glorified.

Right now we have 5 premies who were born in the 900-1500g (2-3lbs) range and all are LIVING! It is amazing to see these little babies living and growing here with just a little oxygen and nutrition by a nasal tube.

Lydie, is a pastor's daughter who was visiting in Koutiala and the cooking pot fell on her and gave her second degree burns on 8% of her body. Though she hates the nurses who have to change her dressings everyday, she is doing very well. She actually went home today and just has to come back for dressing changes. She is so sweet...but she refused to look at the camera.

This little girl has TB and is being treated now. It's a 6 month long course of treatment but she is only staying the first month to make sure she gets the medication. Only after a few days her fever went away, her liver started getting smaller and she was acting much better.

They love playing outside on the porch together. They were often there.

This kid has a cystic hygroma. Thankfully, a pediatric surgeon is coming out next week and will be able to repair this. I think he looks like a Picasso painting.

The baby to the left was just born, weighing a little less than 4 kilos (about 8 1/2 lbs). The kid to the right is over a YEAR old and weighs 3 kilos!! (7 lbs) The mom left the kid and the grandmother was trying to breastfeed the child which (obviously) didn't work. She, Miriam, is now admitted to get feedings every two hours. Hopefully one of the Malians can take her in to help her grow. Her grandmother may take her back. We shall see. (Sorry for the male parts showing on the newborn).

Can you imagine having a one year old this little? I'm so surprised she is still living. But the staff and some visitors love her and always take turns holding her (otherwise she screams).

It seems the work is never done and there is always another interesting case around the corner. Praise the Lord for the work He is doing at the hospital.

Trains and cookies

Saturday the boys were playing outside with their train set. Dawson asked us to help him build the track. Brett and I were both occupied at the moment but when I came out to help him a few minutes later, this is what I found. He put this whole track together by himself. I was pretty impressed.

The little brothers enjoying the track their big bro made.

We made chocolate chip cookies that day as well. Kenan has it in his hand there.

He ate a lot of it but then decided he was done.

Silas was distraught that he couldn't eat the cookie.

But soon, he was eating the cookie.

And that's the third kid for you. No sugar touched Dawson's mouth until his first birthday. You wouldn't know it now, but he never really liked sweets. He rarely got them when he was younger and even when he did, he wasn't too interested. Kenan has always had a sweet tooth, but he didn't have any chocolate until his first birthday either. But Silas is another story. I was trying my best to hold out but a couple weeks ago at someone's house for dinner there was cake and because all three kids were loosing it and I was just trying to appease and keep at least one of them quiet, he got cake. And he's now had some brownie...and chocolate chip cookies. :) Such is life...

Apple Pie

The other week I made my first apple pie. Not trying to brag or anything, but Brett said it was the best apple pie he had ever had (and apple pie is one of his two favorite desserts). I found the recipe on Country Living; no wonder it was so good. The crust had 200g of butter (a little over 3/4 c)! The crust was what made the pie, in my opinion. Brett thought it was the apples, though. I was actually more excited that I found a good crust than the pie because I hadn't been able to find one that was good up until then. They were ok, but nothing special. They were always too dry and not flaky. This one almost tastes like a bought crust. Yeah for good recipes!

Just my thoughts for the week

I was thinking last week that I’ve had nothing to blog about. Life is life and it’s been overall good. Aside from the boys knocking over our external hard drive and breaking it beyond repair, we’ve been ok. The hospital had been relatively slow as well. I was thinking that I had learned how to deal with the patients there, taking care of them but staying emotionally distant so I don’t spend every day in tears. But I haven't.

I often think about the mother I wrote about weeks ago whose baby died soon after her c-section. That case was really difficult for me. But I have quickly learned that I can’t get so attached to the women. I mean, since her baby died, there have been countless other women who have lost their babies. One day about two weeks ago, there wasn’t a baby delivered that lived until the middle of the night when there were two c-sections. So I think it was about 5 women- THAT ONE DAY- who lost their babies. If I got emotionally attached to each of them, I wouldn’t survive. I’d spend each day sitting at the bedside of a mother and that would be about it. I’m not trying to say in any way that I shouldn’t care for them, I just can’t be overcome by their situations. Multiple other babies have died in the last few weeks. We sent one baby home to die who we think had down’s syndrome with a heart defect that is common with down’s. He would have had to live to make it to Bamako to see if he could get on the list of the 50 patients per year who are chosen to have surgery in France. The parents couldn’t afford it and the baby couldn’t make it without oxygen so they just took him home to die. Another baby who had some problem, not totally sure what the issue was, stayed in the hospital for over a week and then died. He seemed to have a severe milk allergy or food allergy to something the mom ate along with lung issues. Despite making sure he got adequate nutrition, he died. As sad as all these cases are, I did well handling them all. I prayed with many of the moms mentioned in my terrible Bambara, but besides that, I tried to stay a bit aloof. So I was feeling like I could handle working at the hospital. But then there was this week. I’m not totally sure what got me about these patients, but they did. I saw a little girl, a year and a half, who we diagnosed with HIV. Her mother had delivered at our hospital and I think from the story I heard, was told she had HIV and not to give her milk to her baby. But that was all we did. (Thankfully, now we treat our HIV women better so they and the baby get more care). She eventually died. I met with the father of the child and he said the child before the one with HIV also got sick and died. It just makes me angry that people won’t tell others of their illness so all it does is pass it to others. If this mom had gotten treatment when she was first diagnosed, she could have possibly saved the lives of both of her children and herself. But instead, they choose to keep it a secret and because they cannot see the effects of the illness (until it is too late), they choose to do nothing. Have another kid, spread the illness. That poor little girl. She probably will die. She’s been sick a lot of her life (she was seen at our vaccination clinic so how did we miss all this? It wasn’t until this visit this week that the lady who brought her finally mentioned that she wasn’t actually the mother- that the mother had died…that would have been some helpful information to mention months earlier…). So frustrating.

Then a little 4 year old girl came in with 2^nd degree burns on about 8% of her body. A cooking pot had fallen on her. She is so precious. I was in the room as they changed her dressings yesterday. She was just crying (she was given medication) and holding tightly to her daddy. You don’t see dads here really caring for their kids. That was what got me. Her daddy was her comfort. He was rubbing her head and talking to her sweetly. It was so precious. Thankfully, it looks like she will heal well. We shall see…

And then there is a little twin that was just born whose belly was really big. We didn’t know what the problem was but they decided to take the baby to surgery yesterday. His intestines were shrunken down and he couldn’t pass his meconinum stool. Thankfully, that was easily fixable and it looks like he will do ok. But yesterday, as we were waiting for the surgery, thinking he probably would die, I just kept rubbing his little head and putting his paci in his mouth so he would stop crying. I’m always overwhelmed by the moms’ reactions to their dying babies. They just stay aloof, not trying to get attached. I just think, if it was my baby, I’d be holding him as much as possible, loving him as best I could for the time he was here. But they just don’t do it. But I guess if their life is always like we see at the hospital, constant death of their children, then I guess your heart just can’t handle that attachment. I mean, one of the ladies I saw this week just gave birth to her 6^th child. But 4 had died. (2 were born dead and 2 died shortly after). I mean, how could you cope if you truly grieved as we do in the States a loss of a child if you’ve lost 4 children? I’m not judging these women, I’m just amazed at how they handle these situations.

The next story is the one that has probably rocked my world the most. Not because of the case itself but because it brings out my constant struggle with fear. This 13 year old girl was bitten by a snake. She had gotten one vile of anti-venom in her village (where we have a clinic) but that wasn’t enough. So five days later, she shows up at our hospital very sick. We gave her two more viles of anti-venom along with several other medications and she is now doing well. But what gets me is realizing that snakes are really around. Jeremie said he saw a snake crossing the road the other evening near our home. Apparently they come out this time of year when it rains. I know that I would be a fearful person in the States, but I feel like the ability to live under the false sense that you are in control is a lot easier to do in the States than here. I am much more keenly aware that circumstances are outside of my control here than when I am in the US. I can’t just put up a sign on our gate that says “no snakes allowed” and while I’m at it “no malaria infected mosquitoes” or anything else that could harm us. And though I know that most of these cases we see at the hospital are because they didn’t get the proper care, and that our kids would, it still makes me fear. I’ve started doing the read through the Bible in a year. I like it because it lays out the passages for me each day. Though I often don’t make it through what I’m supposed to in one day, I like having it there before me to tackle the next day. Anyway, I’ve just started this so I’m in Genesis and Matthew, along with Psalms and Proverbs. I like how often the passages relate to one another. Before the snake bite girl came in, I read how Abraham offered his son on the altar. Then Psalm 10: 9 "Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you". And Proverbs 3:5-6 "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him and he will make your paths straight". So though I didn’t handle the snake bite well at first, it provided me an opportunity to put these verses into action. Abraham really had to believe in these truths to be willing to give his son up on the altar. His son through whom the Lord had promised to give children as numerous as the stars in the sky. But He trusted the Lord. Whether the Lord was going to take his son, raise him from the dead or whether he was going to provide a lamb, he did what the Lord asked trusting that He would do what He had promised. I think there could be nothing worse than loosing Brett or the boys. Yet, I know in my head that the Lord would be sufficient and that He would provide what I needed. I know that He would be enough. I wish I was just convinced of that in my heart of hearts so that I didn’t have to fear. I want to trust my family to the Lord. To fully believe that He loves them more than I do and He is watching over them. He can see all things, He is in total control. I’m not. He is a better protector than I could ever hope to be. My kids are safer in His hands than mine. I can’t see in the bushes if there is a snake, I can’t see which mosquito bites my kid that could give them malaria, I can’t see what parasites are in the dirt they play in or the water they drink that could make my kids sick. But He can. He is Sovereign over all things. And though I wish that meant my kids would always be safe, I know this is not what He promises. I know He promises to keep in perfect peace those who trust in Him, but it’s not a peace from trouble, it’s a peace knowing He is with us. So I must resolve myself once again to lay my children in His hands and let him take care of them. And I must be willing to say as Shadrach, Meshach and Abendigo,”If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve IS ABLE to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But EVEN IF HE DOES NOT, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”(Dan 3: 17-18) In my case, it is serving the god of fear. I must trust and believe that He is worth it. That I shouldn’t sacrifice to my Lord that which costs me nothing. He gave his life for me to live, I should be willing to give mine and the lives of my children to him. If I can ever wrap my head around this and really in the depths of myself believe that He is good and He is my children’s protector and that He is working all things for our good (not for our safety and ease) then I guess that’s when I’ll be delivered from all my fears. I’m still claiming it and believe that He can do it. I am just keenly aware at times like this that it will definitely be a miracle when it happens. I am a huge work in progress. I’m so glad he doesn’t give up on me.

Ok, sorry for that long ramble.

Pictures

Since pictures are what people like anyway and not all the ramblings, here are some pictures.

Dawson (dressed up as Super Dawson in disguise as his shirt is over his cape) was trying hard to do his exercises from my pilates dvd.

Just some cute pictures of the boys looking out the window.

I love that now Kenan can be an older brother and have someone look at him with the same awe and love as he does to Dawson.

I tried to get some pictures of the boys the other day. I even offered chocolate afterwards. Well, this is the kind of picture you get when you bribe them but they aren't really into it.

So instead, I just took pictures of Silas. But then he saw, Jeremie, our house guy, whom he loves immensely. I think he loves him more than me.

So these are all Silas talking to him and waiting for him to come.

And he finally got him. :) I don't know what we'd do without Jeremie. He's so great. He loves the boys so much and they really love him back. He not only is great with all the house stuff but he's awesome with the kids.

Our Friends

I have mentioned our friends here before but have yet to make them a blog post. They just left on Thursday for a 2 month furlough in England so I thought I better get some pictures before they go.

Here they are playing on our neighbor's trampoline. Trying to get five kids on a trampoline to sit still long enough to take a picture didn't really work, but these are the best we got.

Hannah is the youngest. She is 3 years old. (She'll be 4 in Sept). Dawson will go to school with her next year at the Christian school in town where her parents work.

Joel is 7, almost 8. Abigail is 9.

They have been a wonderful gift to our family. We are so glad they are here. To give a little info on the family... Alison, their mom, is English. Her husband, Japhet, is Malian. They met years ago when Alison was spending a summer in Africa (I'm totally blanking on which country). Then Japhet went to England to study and they continued to keep in touch. A little while later, they were married here in Mali. They have been here 12 years. They work with the school L'Ecole Samuel, which is a part of Youth With a Mission. Japhet is in charge of maintenance and construction as well as the school for women who are learning how to sew. Alison currently is not officially working at the school, though she still does things there. She is a lawyer and also works for the organization of African lawyers. Their kids are as sweet as can be and like playing with our boys! It's great! I think the kids have the most fun in the dirt and mud outside. The kids speak both French and English, though they prefer to speak french to each other. (I'm hoping this french will rub off on the boys...and me!) :) We love this family!

I am raising boys, no doubt

Here are a few comments that have been made around the house lately which confirms to me that I am raising boys and it is a totally different ball game than girls.

Me: Dawson, don't hurt Kenan.

D: But I love to hurt him.

D: I got stronger last night. I don't get stronger every night, just last night.

Me: Yes, you are strong. Soon you'll be too big and strong and I won't be able to hold you anymore.

D: Then I'll be a mommy...(after a little bit) but mommies are not stronger. They cannot hold daddies but daddies can hold mommies.

D: Daddy, get me some water.

Brett: You can get it.

D: Sometimes I just want someone to do it for me

Brett: Ask Kenan.

D: Kenan, can you get me some water?

K: (without turning away from the tv) No, I too busy.

As I was leaving for the hospital one morning, I was saying goodbye to the boys as usual, telling them I loved them and would see them later. I also told them I would miss them. Dawson then replies, "Goodbye, I love you. But I won't miss you." Thanks, bud. Glad to know you'll be ok without me. :)

And here are a few more while I'm at it, though they aren't related to being boys...

D: Mommy, your phone is singing.

D:Kenan, do you know what frusteraded (as he says it) means?

K: ......hmm....this box.

D: No, it is NOT this box. It MEANS I'M ANGRY at you!!

And the next comment which makes me remember how sweet and precious these boys are:

D: Kenan, God made two hands, one head, two eyes, two knees, and one belly. And he made two foots and he made pillows and couches and roads and blankets and tv and rain. And the sun and the moon....and box and bread.