If you know me on facebook you know I found an REAL internet cafe in Parika. It is still a 20 min ride in the public mini-death-trap.umm. i mean ..bus, but at least it's wifi.. So here are a few weeks worth of updates. Please forgive the typos. All is well here. Peyton's 6 week check up is tomorrow. We can hand in the application for adoption now that we have the medical. So the process will BEGIN this week for her. Stay in prayer, warriors!
In His Service
Persis
Waaa
That is the only language my daughter knows. So why is everyone one so uptight about it? “That baby cries all the time” Uh DUH! How else do you suppose she communicates? “Waaa” means I’m hungry, I’m tired, I’m bored, I have gas, I need to change positions, I’m awake, Pay attention, I’m wet, I’m dirty, I just hit myself in the face, I just scared myself, I’m just letting you know I’m here. “WAAAAA!” means you are not moving fast enough for my liking. Get over it people.
Not having internet really sucks. Then on the other hand Peyton keeps me so busy I’m would be typing with one hand anyway. I want to describe a typical day so far as a mommy. I wake up at around 6am because that is sunrise and it tends to stir Peyton. So actually, Peyton wakes me up at around 6am. Usually I try to change her diaper and nurse her back to sleep, but lately she needs a change to position so I am forced to get out of the bed. Sometimes I will move from under the bed net and sit in the living room chair. Mommy is usually up by then as is the rest of the village. Mom will cook breakfast while I nurse. Sometimes she will finish and fully go back to sleep by 8am. I go back to sleep with her if she had me up several times during the night. Nonetheless the day a filled with washing. We have to wash all her cloth diapers from the day before and the clothes she used. Then we have to wash our own clothes. Her diapers and clothes are hand washed with a wash board and a bucket with the rain water. If we have electricity that day we will spin dry them which allows them to dry faster on the line. If it is raining the spinner is a pure blessing because it will dry on the inside line by that evening with the help of an iron. I iron all her diapers and clothes to kill bacteria and mold especially when if it was not sun dried. Of course none of this washing is done when Peyton refuses to allow me to put her down to sleep. In that case I must hold her all day long while she nurses for food and comfort. Sometimes I can put her in the sling or the wrap and have my hands free if it’s not too hot that day. I try my best to use the restroom, bathe, and eat when she is sleeping. Most of the time that only gives me 10-15 minutes. Other times my mom will hold her if she is in an alert time and quiet. It seems like she will sleep for about an hour or two in the middle of the day, but many a time I end up sleeping with her. With electricity it usually means some village neighbor will be blasting their music for every ones enjoyment from about 9am to 9pm. But I don’t mind it because it’s something to rock to when I’m trying to settle Peyton down. My mom does all the cooking. I will help with the dishes, washing, and cleaning the house when Peyton allows. If Mommy is home she will spend the day cleaning and cooking and maybe a few naps. She will normally go into town at least once a week to buy food and whatever else. If she has a business appt she will always shop afterwards. I don’t go out much with Peyton when I am alone. The few times I did it was a hassle, but I guess that is to be expected. Everyone is so amazed when they see her in the wrap. I keep getting concerned stares that she is suffocating. “Deh is a baby you geh wrap up so tight?” Yes. “eh’ can breathe?” Yes. “oh muh goy” By sundown, we may sit outside on the porch to catch the last of the day and then the night dance will start. We have to shake out all the nets, dust down the beds, and put the net back up with whatever is needed for the night. That includes at least three diapers, wipes, a flashlight, hand sanitizer, water bottle, a cloth to mop the sweat, and my ipod to play games while she nurses and tell me the time. My cousin Lizzie usually stops in when she comes home from work for a visit and to knit. Mommy is also trying to knit and Lizzie gives her inspiration with her freestyle designs. Peyton falls asleep at around 7:30pm, but not always on her own. She sleeps in arms or wants me in the bed with her. It almost makes no sense to stay up since there is really nothing to do after the sun goes down. So we may all turn in around 8:30pm. Once in a while we may stay up and watch a recorded television show on the computer. Mom turns in, but Peyton will have me up in a few hours to nurse at least three times and will take an hour to let go of the breast without crying.
God is an awesome God.
My baby has already had a hard road. She was born in non sterile conditions in a clinic hospital office. She was transferred to the birthing hospital which was no more sanitary than the clinic. She spend two days in a room filled with 15 other women and babies all sharing the same space with nothing but an old sheet and whatever you brought from home. Nothing appeared sterilized in anyway. Well it’s not hard to imagine that she picked up infections. When we arrived at West Demerara Hospital I saw them put Peyton in an incubator that looked as if it was just used as a regular crib for all babies that come in. I witnessed her receive the Vit K shot without even an announcement to the mother. The next day I reminded Sharon to refuse the BCG for now and wait for her clinic appt. Sharon told me she already got it at 6 hours old. Fast forward two days, I notice Peyton has a yellow discharge from her eye. She was discharged from the hospital so I assumed it was addressed. Wrong. Fast forward three more days when Sharon took Peyton. She spent 24 hours with a mother who didn’t even have a hot water flask or a bucket to bathe. When Peyton was returned to me I noticed a rash that developed on her thighs. I assumed it was a diaper rash, but it spread and morphed into pustules too. They started on her behind and then moved to her back and neck within the week. During this time Sharon decided she wanted to take Peyton to the clinic to get the BCG vaccine. Yes, I know. She already got it. But for some reason the nurse put on her discharge card that she did NOT get it. Sharon was suppose to confront the nurse with the knowledge that she saw her getting the vaccine, but she allowed the nurse to convince her it was not the same vaccine. So we believed that she still needed the vaccine and had the intention to allow it to be given at the clinic appointment on Monday. During the weekend the skin condition worsened. Mommy and I decided we wanted to take her to a private pediatrician instead of the free clinic. We were also still confused on how Sharon could be so sure about seeing the shot and then change her mind. Mommy admonished her to go back to the clinic and get it in writing that Peyton did not get the vaccine. Sharon seemed to resist. We prayed more than ever for the health of this baby and the mental health of her birth mother. We knew that if Peyton was given a double dose of vaccine it would mean trouble. That afternoon God answered prayer. Without a word Sharon went to the clinic and God had it that the very nurse who gave the vaccine was working that afternoon and verified that she did have it. Peyton is spared. The next day we went to Georgetown to find a private pediatrician. We found one at Woodlawn Hospital and we were seen within an hour and a half. Peyton was diagnosed with thrush and a bacterial infection that was probably picked up either at the hospital or when she spent the night with Sharon. We purchased the medicines and went home. In all it costs us five thousand Guyana dollars which is 25 dollars in US currency. She has a five regiment of a suspension liquid of amoxycillin and clavulanate potassium given 1.5 ml every 12 hours and 1-2 eyedrops of ciprofloxacin. She was also given Travogen (Isoconazole nitrate) once a day for seven days to the affected area.
Life here is not easy. Maybe bacterial infections are the norm for locals because no one seems alarmed. It is the foreigners who are extra careful to boil everything. But it is only God’s mercy that keeps us safe and healthy. Every day we get up singing praises. We sing to Peyton when she cries and when she is quiet. We thank God for every road he makes clear. We praise Him for being steadfast and answering every request we make. Even a prayer today that Peyton will sleep for two hours so I can finish washing her diapers, iron them, bring the clothes in from the line, iron them, take a bath, brush my hair, change my clothes, eat, and write a journal entry- EVEN THAT he answers. Now I know that means I will trade sleep in the middle of the night, but at least I will have clean diapers to change her into. I can’t help but be content. God is really supplying all that I need like manna for the children of Israel. I came to this country with nothing except milk in my breast and faith. I did not bring all the amenities to make the stay cozy. I don’t even have shampoo to wash my locs. Still my mother is taking care of me as I take care of this precious baby. We ask God daily for our provisions and He delivers EVERY TIME. This is an honor to be able to rely on Him alone. I can assure you it is nothing we are doing that is so right. We doubt ourselves at every turn and we have contemplating giving up. But we are reminded every day that this is a spiritual war. The enemy of our souls does not want these children to be rescued. Our job is to remember that the battle is not ours. Not only is it His fight, we must also know that the victory will be His too. No weapon formed against me shall prosper. How great is our God. I will sing of the mercies of the Lord forever. All of these are songs that carry us through each day with smiles and laughter. We are on a mission of mercy in the name of Jesus. Thanks be to God.
In everything give Him thanks 12/22/10
Peyton will be 4 weeks old on Friday. Already a month has passed. Just like that. That is why I am being so careful to cherish every single day and every moment. She will never be this age again. I will never get this time back. Even though we are in another country, we are together. That is what is most important. Soon Danice or (D’Annice ...smile. Still considering a name change) will join us and the family will be complete. Peyton is so very vocal (another of saying she screams for everything). I am interested to see how we will incorporate D into the mix. I hope the crying does not upset her.
We seem to really be getting into a routine now. We are always trying to get anything that requires electricity done as soon as possible because we never know when it will shut off. I have to start letting Peyton stretch her lungs because there are certain things I just have to get done and I need two hands. I try to wear her, but it gets too hot while doing chores and she is not comfortable. Mom is having problems with putting her hands in water so I need to do a lot of the rinsing of the clothes. I still think we should hire someone to do this, but I will not push it.
I am happy. I have a very good life. I am privileged to have this concentrated time with Peyton. If I had just come here when she was 3 months to fill out the paperwork, I know this would be a totally different child. Coming here to care for her from her birth was the best thing I could have done. I know it’s harder for her birth mother and no walk in the park for me, but it is best for the overall goal. I talk to her constantly. Mom is always commenting how she responds to my voice. Last night I gave her a stern talking to about all the screaming she does when Nana is holding her. Today she stayed quietly with Nana and even fell asleep. I will indulge myself to believe I actually had something to do with that. HA!
It is hard for me to imagine how much our routine will change when D comes so I chose not to. I will simply live in the moment. I will thank God for what I was able to accomplish each day. I will ask everyday for my daily strength and keep it moving.
I am loving this time with my mother. I love having her tell me about her life here in Guyana. I enjoy the stories of how she grew up and all she was able to accomplish. It’s hard to believe she came from such humble beginnings, but then again not so hard. My mother is not the haughty type. She takes a back seat most of the time. So seeing where we are she could only go two ways I suppose- run for dear life and never look back or return o help in any way you can. That has been my mother’s mission for as long as I can remember. She has ALWAYS returned to Guyana. She has never forgotten her sisters and their children. She may not be wealthy and willing to lavish them with one time use gifts, but she will make sure they have a piece of land to make a bed and a roof to keep the sun and rain off their back. If they are willing to learn she will put them in school. If they are willing to work she will support their efforts. Sadly there are quite a few of her relative who are not willing and just want to take. For them, she prays.
There is so much to thank God for. The sunshine to dry the clothes. The rain to wash the clothes. The cool breeze and the moon lit nights to sit outside when the power is off. Plenty of food to eat and the gas to cook it. Health and strength for the day and hope for tomorrow. What more can I ask for. A three month supply of ice cold coconut water? Close. My cousin’s son dropped off a gallon of this nectar of God. God is so good.
Christmas in Guyana
Breakfast consisted of Pepper Pot and cassava with dasheen. No homemade bread? Yeah! That’s what I said. No worries. Mommy needed to borrow a pan from Lizzie. It was cooling by midday. There was nothing in the way of the traditional gifts except for the 4 inch rat Mommy found in the shower stall. She had been laying “gifts” for it for the past three days. It had been paying us a visit every night to share in the festivities without an invitation. I guess it partied too hard last night and passed out in the shower. Thank God Mommy found it. If it was me, the scream would have been heard all over the world. Mommy called one of the boys to remove it from the premises. Her young nephew of 11 years old decided he was brave enough and came to the rescue. He grabbed it by the tail and threw it in the trench. The only problem was that revived it and off it swam. Brave, but no experience. Oh well.
I find it quite comical to see a guy in a red winter suit walking around in Guyana heat. Yes, Santa Claus makes his way to Guyana. Christmas is a big deal here. Not so much the commercialism, but the festive season. There are parties every where. There are events called village days where everyone comes out and celebrates in the streets with music and food. The radio station sets up the stage and parties all day long. Cooking is a HUGE part of Christmas. There is no Christmas if there is no pepper pot and black cake in every house. If you know me then you know that is my favorite part of Christmas. Last night I had a suspected food poisoning complete with vomiting and a migraine headache. So I spent Christmas eve begging God to spare my life because I was SURE I was gonna die last night and my baby would never see America. But by morning the nausea had subsided and the migraine reduced to a slight buzz. So I woke up to the Wesleyan Church up the road broadcasting Christmas carols at 6am. My mom decided to join in from the living room. Then the house next door turned on her music and it was so loud you “can’t hear yourself think” (as mommy puts it). After not being able to hear Daddy on the phone, Mommy made it a point to kindly ask her to lower the volume. “Ya keeping Christmas for all ah we, nuh? Ya music is nice, but meh cyan hear mehself on deh phone” You must know the music here has the same words, but ALL the beats are changed to Caribbean style- HEAVY BASS JUMP UP and LOUD. It is village day in our village on Christmas day so the festivities started around 11am. It really got going at sundown and climaxed at midnight. Apparently a well known artist came on at 1am because I could hear the screams from my bedroom. I think the music kept going until about 2am. I stopped looking at the clock.
Peyton was very kind to me while I was moaning in pain last night. She slept peacefully while I puked in the bathroom. She is one month old and we are still getting to know each other. I talk to her and sing to her all the time. She is a crier for the most part, but she is starting to have some quiet times. She likes when I sing to her. One night while I took a bath, Mommy sang the Hallelujah Chorus to her. We tried to rig up a hammock to rock her in. So far it’s not helping much. She screams just the same. Her only sure console is my boob in her mouth on which she will fall asleep with a mouth full of milk. Yes, I can hear it now...”Don’t let her do that. She will never sleep on her own.” Little by little I am letting her cry more when I know she was just fed, burped and dry, but she eventually wins every time. The fact of the matter is this will not last forever. There will soon come a time when I will wish a breast could make it all better. So everyone has my permission to remind me of that when I complain that I can’t get anything done. Just don’t expect me to respond kindly.
She is very strong. At 3 weeks old she flipped herself over from her stomach to her back. She can also turn herself around in the bed. Her legs are so powerful she will literally climb up your chest. She kicks and swats off any kind of covering. She pushes herself off in every which direction. Trying to swaddle her or hold her close to rock to sleep is asking for a beating. Peyton is throwing blows to the face with no apologies. The nice part is at night she also uses those legs to sleep right under me in the bed. Mommy says it’s the sweetest thing to see. She makes all kinds of faces. The best one is when she smiles in her sleep. She also sleeps with her mouth open…like mother, like daughter. She loves to suck on anything that is skin. She has given me several significant hickies on my arms. So far I can’t get her to keep a pacifier, but she will suck the blood right out of my arms if she could. No wonder my nipples were killing me during that first week. Her birth mother does not visit as often, but when she does she makes it a point to comment about Peyton’s size. She insists that Peyton is losing weight no matter how many times we tell her otherwise. She also is convinced she cries because she is hungry regardless of how many times her sisters remind her that all her babies were nonstop criers. One day she just flat out told me my milk is not right for her because “it comes from a pill”. It is useless to give her the scientific facts of human milk. I wish she would wash all her urine soaked clothes and scrub all the mustard stained diapers back to white. But that will not happen so I just resolve myself to accept that I will never be good enough in her eyes.
We had really hoped to have Danice home by now. The process gets more complicated every time we go to the department. Since I am occupied with Peyton, Mommy makes the trips to the Ministry. Last week we thought a simple letter would bring her home. She was turned away. Then we thought the inspector would come the next day to do a home visit. He never showed and we were told that it has to be approved by another director. So it looks like January is the earliest we will get her. You would think they would be happy to get a child out of an orphanage and reunited with her family. I get sad when I think about her now. I can only pray that she is well. With Peyton it is almost impossible to go see her like I did before. In addition I know the home mother does not want me to there because of how much Danice cries when I have to leave. With Peyton it’s just a matter of time. With Danice there is no telling what will happen next.
I really miss my church home. Sunday morning we attempted to find the Anglican church on the west coast. Mommy really wanted to attend a service. Naturally we had a late start with Peyton. We have no pretty Christmas dresses so it’s just onesies for her and a skirt and shirt for me. Then by the time we got to the road, there was no bus in sight. The sun was already strong and Peyton was not comfortable being strapped to me. I also was getting very hot and not looking forward to searching for an unfamiliar church with a baby in tow. I decided to go back home and allow Mommy to venture out in peace. So I will welcome the day I can wake up in my home, dress my babies in their Sunday best, drive my own car, and be blest and be a blessing in my church where I am known and loved.
The day after Christmas is called Boxing Day. It is British holiday. It’s a very popular day to get married. There was a wedding in the village and it is tradition for all the cars to blow their horn so that everyone can come outside and see the procession. This weekend is also a high drinking event. Just about everyone is drunk and unfortunately driving. Driving in Guyana is already taking your life in your hands so I will be staying home until the festivities end on Tuesday. I noticed another curious happening. Men walk around with little birds in cages. I asked mommy what that was about and she explained that the birds are the equivalent of dogs in America. No one keeps dogs as pets here. They just roam the streets. But men keep birds. They walk them. They take them to parks and talk about them. It’s again, comical to see grown men of all sizes walking around with little bird cages.
How all Good Flows Towards Us by Saint Augustine of Hippo
In whatever I say do you come to my help, O you one God, one True Eternal Substance, where is no discord, no confusion, no change, no want, no death: where is all harmony, all illumination, all steadfastness, all abundance, all life: where nothing is lacking and nothing redundant; where begetter and begotten are one: God, whom all things serve which do serve and whom every good soul obeys! God, by whose laws the poles rotate, the stars pursue their courses, the sun leads on the day, the moon tempers the night, and the whole order of the universe – through days by the alterations of light and darkness; through months by the waxing and waning of the moons; through the years by the successions of spring, summer, autumn, and winter… The will of the soul is free, and the rewards to the good, and penalties to the wicked, are everywhere distributed by unchangeable necessity: God, by whom all good flows towards us , all evil is driven from us: God above whom, outside whom, without whom, is nothing: God, beneath whom, in whom, with whom, is everything: who has made man after his own image and likeness, which he who knows himself discovers: Hear, hear, hear me! My God, my master, my king, my Father, my cause, my hope, my wealth, my honor, my home, my country, my salvation, my light, my life! Hear, hear, hear me, in that way of yours, known best to few!
Happy New Year. This was my earnest prayer this morning because I woke up a bit discouraged. The enemy wants me to believe that no progress has been made and time is wasting away and before I know what hit us it will be March and the adoption papers will still be on someone’s desk and my time will run out. I will have to decide to leave my life in the States on hold and remain in Guyana alone for the sake of Peyton or I must give up and go home. Bills will pile up, mortgage will go unpaid, the sun will dim and the moon will turn to blood. (The devil is very dramatic) So I prayed for peace and wisdom on what to do next. Danice situation is looking grim. Mommy wants us to apply for Akira. I got a word from Spirit to get the entire family involved to “rescue” Danice. It needs to be a concerted effort rather than Mommy doing all the work for a child that was born right in this lot witnessed by everyone here. May God bless the effort and the unity of the family for a cause.
Today I am tired. I must admit. My fears of inadequacy are creeping in. How will I handle two children? Mommy wants me to adopt three. WHAT!? She says she will move in with me and help full time. I hope she plans to be active till the age of 80. I will submit the paperwork and let God do the rest. Peyton is a handful right now. But I have to remember that this will pass and everyday is a new something. Akira is bright and a fast talker for a 4 year old. She will be quite interesting for an introvert like me. If we get Danice maybe she can help to bring her up. I may be severely underestimating the special needs of Danice. I know I am already emotionally wrapped up in her, but am I being practical?
I am still working my contentment it seems. That’s why it’s called daily bread.
