Malachai

I don’t know if you remember or not, but I wrote a post about our newest little admit the day after Thanksgiving. This is a follow up of that. If you want, read that first here http://torirayle.blogspot.com/2012/11/our-newest-little-arrival-and-how-hes.html.

Well, he stayed with me the rest of that week. For seven days I bathed, fed, changed, and loved him at all hours of the day and night (except when I was teaching preschool). He was such an easy going baby (besides waking up a lot in the night). He would be content sitting in the Bumbo or laying on the floor if other things needed to get done. He loved being tickled—especially under his chin.

I could tell from the first time I met him he was a special baby—I couldn’t see why his mom would have left such a cute little bundle alone at the hospital. He had big handsome eyes and looked cute in just about any outfit I would put him in (of course I picked out all the cute ones).  He ate well and seemed very happy. The next Friday one of our babies went home with her dad (here in Haiti) and so there was room for him in a baby room and about 9ish in the morning I took him over to his new caretakers in a room with other friends.

I missed him, but was able to go visit and play with him as time allowed. On December 8^th the nurse came in a room I was in to get a key and said he should have just stayed with me because he had been sick since he went in the room. I said he could come back and stay. She took him to the pharmacy to see if she could figure out what was wrong with him and if there was anything she could do for him.

He ended up dying. We don’t know why and there was nothing that could have been done differently that would have kept him alive. He appeared healthy and no one knew he was sick enough to die.

Did you read that blogpost? I talked about how I prayed for his family. I prayed for them to know his name or his features and to find him fast. Well, my initial thoughts where why didn’t this happen, this wasn’t my plan, but God knew. God knew his name, God new his features and he called him home. Now, this child who had no feet is running into the arms of his father who loves him more than I could ever love him.

At one point I wondered why he had to come here for just two weeks, couldn’t he have just stayed at that hospital he spent his first 8 months at and saved us this pain? But then, I was thankful. I’m very thankful for his life. I’m thankful I got to know him. I’m thankful I was able to love him and show him love. I’m thankful he was able to have a burial and a funeral (who knows what would have happened where he was). I’m thankful for the time the two of us had together.

Yes, this is hard. Too hard to express in words. I’m still trying to process this and deal with it, but God knows what he is doing. God knows why we only got two weeks with him, God knows how I feel, God knows what is best. Sometimes I just want to be able to hug him again, hear his cute little laugh, and see his gorgeous smile but then I have to wonder how he is feeling. I bet that smile is constantly plastered over his face as he’s running into our Father’s arms. I bet his laughter is full of pure joy. And, I mean, how amazing would it be to get a hug from God? That beats my hugs hands down any day. While I’m still grieving his loss, I’m so happy for him and the life he has now.

I just know that my grandpa is taking great care of him and I know I will get to see them both one day again.

(I tried to add some pictures, but it was uploading really slow--maybe I'll add them later)