Last night, we tended six babies with only four people. We were anxious to
get two more volunteers the next morning.
I rocked Ethan for about an hour, then gave Celine her medicine, then went back to another crying baby, then back to Ethan by the time dinner was ready.
I ate as fast as I could before he began to cry again. When I wanted seconds, it was too late, and I had to rock him back and forth. Finally, I stopped, put my head between my knees and took a breath. This breath did not make me feel better, it made me more frustrated. I thought I was going to cry myself, but after a silent prayer, he calmed down and I was able to finish eating my dinner. The night wasn't as long as the other nights after I had food in my stomach. Only the little things was what it took to get me through, mainly because I love the surroundings too much, but also because I gained enough strength not to feel sorry for myself. Even the smell of
medicine made me happy, because it was a familiar smell from when I was sick and my mom was taking care of me. Every night I go to bed grateful for the differences I have had a chance to see here, but I still felt that shame of last night. I felt shame because I don't want to be inpatient when Ethan cries when I don't know why, because I have felt like giving up and handing him to someone else. It hasn't come to that yet, but it might, and I feel guilty for even wanting to give up on any of them.
I opened the book of Mormon to Jacob, chapter 5. I read about the olive tree. It said that if you nurture it, it will grow and become healthy. I am sorry, I don't remember exactly what it said, but I received the message. I knew that even though it is hard to take care of something that
requires a lot of patience, you have to remember, that when you do the things you should be doing, blessings will come, and the reward is great. The reward for me, will be to see these kids receive birthdays, have a family, smile, have best friends, and live their lives with goals and
dreams.
Mat
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