This
past week our nanny started again. I was
overjoyed to have some help again. She
is amazing with my boys and they both love her dearly.
As
we sat down and talked about what had happened three months ago, I was able to
show her pictures of our time with Seth.
She
then told me about her son that was born in between her daughter and son. It
was the first time she has even mentioned it.
She
was 7 months pregnant and noticed a little less movement in the baby. She promptly
went to get an ultrasound and found out he had encephalitis and would soon
die. He died the next day and she went
into labor.
She
went to the hospital and her son was born.
The hospital staff didn’t want her to even look at him. But she asked to see him and they let her see
him. She said he was beautiful.
After
delivery they took her to the post partum room, where all of the other mothers
who just had babies were recovering, all happily holding their newborns, there
is no such thing as private rooms in hospitals here. Thankfully the next day her husband begged
her doctor to release her, to spare her from the emotional torture of seeing
others with their children.
I
asked her what his name was, and she said they didn’t name him, they didn’t
bury him. They left him in the hospital. Who knows what they did with his body.
In
this country he wasn’t even born, he has no birth certificate, nothing to prove
he ever existed.
I
wanted to cry, but amazingly held it together.
This
is the story I have heard from so many who have shared with me here.
My
heart breaks because life is devalued here.
When I have seen doctors here for my past pregnancies they generally ask how
many abortions I have had, not whether I have had any, which gives you an idea
of how common it is. It’s no wonder why
women age so quickly, the emotional baggage they carry is heavy and has left
scars on their hearts.
But
God created life and I believe even a baby that is growing in utero it’s worth
protecting, worth doing everything to help them live. It makes me sad to know that women here are
not given every option to protect their babies.
I
was so grateful to be able to hold Seth, to be able to go see him any time
during his NICU stay. I loved staring at
him as I held his hand; that truly was a gift.
As I hear these stories it makes me cherish that gift even more.
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