Babies

My shirt smells of baby formula. My arms and back are tired from holding babies. I feel happy and useful.

This morning my daughter and I went to help care for tiny quintuplets. These beautiful babies weigh between 6 and 8 pounds. They are healthy and have grown strong since their premature birth in December. Their mother was visiting from Sudan to have her mother-in-law bless the pregnancy, a Sudanese custom, when she began to have complications and had to be hospitalized. She eventually delivered four little girls and one boy. After a few weeks in the hospital these tiny babies came home where they are being cared for by their mother and grandmother. Their father is in the Sudanese army and cannot come. An army of church ladies is helping to feed and care for these little ones. The apartment is clean, calm and orderly. The mother is a beautiful young woman who deals with a nonstop parade of volunteers with grace and dignity. The babies are fed and cared for by multiple, loving hands. I expect they will grow up knowing that everyone loves them and never be afraid of strangers. The doctors want the babies to stay here until they are older so they will be strong and healthy before returning to Sudan.

I asked the mother today if she was homesick. She said yes. She misses her husband and her relatives and friends. She is anxious to go home. For now she is is grateful for the medical care she and her babies have received and for the army of volunteers who help to care for her babies.