What Happens Next

I’m laying here in bed in a hotel in the middle of Ongole, India with a raging case of Delhi Belly. Aren’t I just the luckiest girl?

Fortunately, Sandwich is letting me borrow her laptop while she and Rosebud work with their group of kids this morning. She thought it might be good for me to type out all the millions of thoughts that have been running through my head since we arrived.

I’m thinking that maybe it might be good to give everyone here a break from hearing those millions of thoughts every single time they turn around.

So, where do I begin?

Not too long ago, a well-known blogger went on a mission trip and I was so excited to see how it changed her life. I really enjoy her blog, but it seems so materialistic at times and I was really curious to see if it changed her in anyway.

I followed the blog everyday while she was gone and only rarely did she mention the poverty and the heartbreak that she saw. And it’s not been mentioned at all now that she’s returned.

And I’ve always thought about writing her and saying, “Did that trip change you at all? How do you cope? How do you see what you saw and go back to the life that you had?”

And that’s where I am right now. How do I go back home to my 24 hour Walmarts and my air-conditioned house and my anything-and-everything-that-I-could possibly want and forget about what I’ve seen here?

What do I do with my life now?

Sandwich said that if you have the money and resources and the available love then you adopt. If that’s not possible, then you cut back and change your lifestyle so that you can send financial support. But it may not be possible to do any of those things… and you should always remember and perhaps learn to accept the blessings that God has already given you because they are your true priority.

I am very blessed by my three children. But that doesn’t mean that I will stop thinking about the kids that I’m leaving behind. I have to find a really delicate balance where I can continue to function emotionally and physically when I get back home… but I don’t want to forget what I’ve seen.

Right now, every time I close my eyes, I see Nicky’s face. And David’s. And Jasper’s. And Sam’s. And I feel helpless because I know exactly what needs to be done to help them. I know the therapies and the exercises and the equipment…. But I feel powerless to help them. Because what they really need is a Mom.
These children need a Mom.

And, as a Mom, that breaks my heart.

There are 84 children here at Sarah’s. And they are all amazing, but there’s a group of 8 or so that have my captured my heart. Most people love little cute cuddly babies…. And believe me there are many here and I’ve been loving on them like crazy. But it’s the older boys… the ones that are 8 and 9 and 10 and 11 that have sent me to my knees.

I have fallen in love with Nicky. He just arrived and is around 8 or 9 years old. He has beautiful dark skin with these amazing eyes and straight teeth and beautiful smile. He was just recently abandoned but was obviously loved. He’s healthy looking and is not malnourished. His mom or his grandma or whoever watched him obviously loved him. And she or he loved him enough to leave him in a church, which is where he was found a few weeks ago.

I love that little boy! He has CP, but he doesn’t scissor his legs and he isn’t curled up at all. He just lays on his back all day and looks at the ceiling with those beautiful eyes. He knows when you enter the room and he will smile back at you if you smile at him. And he loves it when you blow raspberries in his hand. He giggles and reaches his hand to your mouth for more of them.

He knows what’s going on and he is very aware. He’s in there, you know? You can tell that he is very smart and all he needs is a home and a mom (or a dad) who will give him the love he so desperately deserves and needs. He’s smart! He could graduate from college. He could have a life. He needs a family.

I dreamt last night that that my mom smuggled him out of Sarah’s (smuggle is not the right word to use b/c Sarah’s is not a place that anyone needs to be smuggled out of), but I dreamt that she took him without telling anyone and I found her and Nicky at an amusement park. Nicky was in a special CP wheelchair and mom was feeding him those nasty orange peanut shaped marshmallow candies. And he had the happiest, most content look on his face because he knew that someone loved him.

How do I go home and forget about him?

How do I forget about Nathan and his beautiful dark eyes with the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy. He is crippled up with his head turned and his mouth slightly open, but you can tell that he’s gorgeous. He has fair, fair skin and the most beautiful hair. And he cries to be picked up and loves to go outside and sit in your lap. He nuzzles your neck with his open mouth and makes sucking movements and I joked to Sarah that that I’m going to return home with a hickey! Lol I would have to explain to my husband that it was given to me by the most gorgeous boy named Nathan-with-the-beautiful-eyes.
How do I go home and forget about him? How do I let my kids play outside and take them to the park when I know that Nathan is laying on his back and waiting for someone to pick him up and take him outside?

When I do therapy with Noah, how do I forget about Sam who desperately needs a sensory therapy program? Sam, who has cerebral palsy. Tiny little Sam who laughed the most delicious laugh when he was bounced and rolled on the exercise balls that Faye brought. Sam, who giggles with delight when you blow raspberries on his stomach. Sam, who loves to be tickled and picked up. How do I forget him?

And Justin? Lovely, beautiful Justin with the wavy hair and lopsided grin. Justin, who was 2 weeks away from walking until he had a devastating stroke a few months ago that left him flat on his back. Justin, whose bed is by the window and who feels sunshine on his face, but also hears the sounds of the kids playing outside. Justin, who cries a pitiful cry when you to try to take him back to his room after he’s been sitting outside in the fresh air.

And there’s Noah. And Jasper, who easily gets neglected from the attention , but who is very aware of what’s going on. And Joshua with his protruding tongue and bald head which lends the effect that he’s severely disabled with no cognitive awareness.
But it’s not true.

And I haven’t even begun to talk about Michael, who has autism and who broke my heart the first day. I still can’t talk about it without dissolving into tears. One day I’ll tell the story, but not now.

These boys need moms. They need families. They need love. And if they can’t have that then they need volunteers to come out. They need 84 volunteers – one for each child.

There are ayahs here, but their jobs are to feed and change and bathe the children. And that in itself is a full time job. There are two physical therapists, but they are divided between 44 children. There’s a teacher and early childhood specialist, but someone needs to be working with the kids nonstop. Someone needs to be stimulating the children nonstop.

They need YOU. Who out there is up for the challenge?

I am so grateful to Sarah… that God created her with a specific purpose and that she listened to His call. She didn’t have to. It’s a heartbreaking call. It really is. But she obeyed God’s plan for her life and she has rescued these children.

I know that in the adoption community it is not PC to say that you rescue or save a child, but I don’t care. These children have been rescued. They are clothed and fed and changed. The ones that are able have the opportunities for school. They receive needed therapies and surgeries. They receive proper nutrition and medical care.

They have been rescued.

But there’s still so much more that needs to be done. First of all, you need to come here to see the need. There are great things in place, but so much more that needs to be done. Getting them out of the govt home was the first step. But there are many more steps that need to be taken.

You need to come and see what needs to be done.

We also need to get equipment. The children are growing. The boys are heavy! (That’s a true testament to the fact that Sarah is making sure all their nutritional needs are being met).

There’s one CP wheelchair and they are not readily available in India. We need to find out how to purchase a container to ship. We need money to get through customs and tariffs, but it needs to be done. Off the top of my head, there need to be 30-40 pediatric cerebral palsy wheelchairs. We also need adaptive bicycles and trykes… exactly like the ones Noah and Nandi received for free through Ambucs.

Sarah needs standers so that the kids can strengthen their muscles and get off their backs. Anything and everything that can be associated with cerebral palsy is needed here.

We need a playground! We need more therapy swings with stands. You can buy them at First Monday and the stands cost more than the swings, but Victory Home has a lovely front courtyard that is about to be tiled (thanks to Sandwiche’s donations!!) and hammock swings would fit perfectly out there for the nonwalkers who need fresh air and stimulation. Little Sam would love it!

We need volunteers. (Have you noticed that I keep saying “we” as if I’m a part of SCH? Once you come here, you will feel a part of it and you will leave half your heart here).

We need lots and lots of volunteers to work 1:1 with the kids. There are two little blind girls that are part of the group that came last month. They are amazing! They blow me away with their potential. They need someone to come teach them Braille. They need things to provide with them with lots of stimulation. My mom took some basic kitchen sponges – the ones that are thick with yellow on one side and green on the other side – and covered them with lots of different types of material: fake fur, burlap, sequins, felt, etc. The blind girls loved it… they just kept rubbing the covered sponges all over their face and their arms. Then they’d take two different types of sponges, like burlap and fake fur, and rub one on their face and then the other to feel the texture. Then, one of the girls was told it was time to clean up and she packed up all the sponges and toys and put the lid back on the box. I mean, she did a better job than any of my children… and my kids can see!

In my opinion, we need to raise money so that Sarah can hire several people to give massages to the kids. These children need to be touched and not just for diaper changes, baths, and feeding.

We need to raise money for a sound system with speakers that can attach outside in the courtyard – if there is such a thing. The kids LOVE music, but the ayahs don’t play it. Theresa, the special educator out here, bought the ayahs a CD player, but they put it in the closet and don’t take it out. There needs to be a way that music can constantly be played outside or in the rooms to provide stimulation and help prevent boredom for the nonwalkers.

We need sponsors for the kids. It’s $150 a month, which I know is a lot, but you can even partially sponsor one of the kids for $75. There needs to be monthly financial contributions that can be relied on. There needs to be more homes and more ayahs and more teachers and therapists.

It WILL happen, but it can only happen if people are touched and moved and feel led to give.

Big sigh. I thought that by typing all this out that I’d be able to convey my feelings, but I’m sick – literally – and have to keep getting up every 10 minutes and then when I come back to type, I’m feeling all disjointed. Plus, I can’t help but be distracted by the Bollywood videos on TV. It never fails to amaze me that in such a conservative country that all the film stars cavort half-naked on television. It’s puzzling.

Anyway, I will end this. I know this post was all over the place. It was very cathartic, though, to be able to type it up and get some of my feelings out. I have to be very, very careful what I expose myself to because I feel things very, very deeply and can quite easily be consumed and overwhelmed from all the suffering and needs in the world.

So, like, I haven’t been able to think about the earthquake in Haiti because if I let my mind go there, I would probably not be able to get out of bed. I can’t allow myself to think of all the millions of orphans in the world because the situation is so huge that I will be swallowed by it. And I already feel completely broken by what I’ve seen here in Ongole.

It’s not that it’s bad – because it’s not. It’s because there are a select few that remind me so much of my Noah and my heart grieves for those little boys who weren’t given a chance when they were little – Sam and Nicky and David and Joshua and Justin and Thomas and Noah and Nathan and Jasper – children who need mommies so desperately. And it kills me to know that I’m leaving them behind. They are in safe hands at Sarah’s, but they have so much potential that won’t be tapped into unless they have 1:1 care or a family willing to step forward and say, “That’s my son! Let’s bring him home”.

Okay, enough of this right? Many, many more thoughts racing through my head. But let me leave with this: pray about how you can help. Sarah’s is one of hundreds if not thousands of organizations that exist to help orphans worldwide. Just pray about how you can help someone even if it’s not Sarah’s.

We all have the capability to make a difference in this world. We just have to figure out our calling. And respond.

And for me… the biggest question is what do I do now? What happens when I wake up in my own bed on Thursday morning? What happens on Friday? And Saturday when my routine returns to normal? When I know that halfway around the world my little Nicky and my little David and my little Nathan are lying on their backs waiting for love?

I’ll settle back into my routine and my time will be consumed by three little children who miss me so much. Three little kids who are the light of my life. Three little ones who have serious physical and emotional needs that need to be met. Three little sweeties who need the attention and love and availability of their mother.

But will happen when I close my eyes? Will I see the faces of the ones that are left behind?

How do you continue living the life you lived when you know what’s waiting on the other side of the world? Even if you’re not able to adopt or can’t afford to sponsor or already have hands that are way too full. What happens next?

What do I do now?