HELP IS ON THE WAY

So blare the headlines as the tragedy in Haiti becomes even worse.

And help is on the way. From much of the world. Tons of supplies, millions of dollars, and an infinite amount of prayers, meditations, loving thoughts, and tears. So many tears.

I texted to 90999 last evening--this is the number that will charge your phone bill $10 and give that to the Red Cross. I was happy to do it, but wanted so desperately to do more. It’s some small thing, I suppose.

So I get stuck in my thoughts, I become frustrated at the frailty of this human condition. I don’t have to detail the stories coming out, although there is one that particularly caught my eye--a story that highlighted the plight of 254 children who were in the process of being adopted by American families. (http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/34864977/ns/today-today_people/)

We can hope and pray that all of these children are alive and well and that their adoptions will be expedited. We can hope that lost paperwork will not be an issue. We can hope. The pain these expectant parents are experiencing is something I can especially understand.

My daughter, Maya, is 6. She is a gregarious soul with a heart and spirit that touches me in a way that no one has ever--or will ever--be able to accomplish.

We met Maya when she was just 6 weeks old. Born to a drug-addicted mother in Newark, NJ, a woman who had borne several other children before her, Maya (formerly named Tamika), was immediately placed into State custody. Her mother visited her just once before heading back out to the streets. There is no biological father listed on her birth certificate. She was visited by a maternal grandmother on a regular basis, but she could not claim custody of Tamika because of a felony record.

We had been waiting for a phone call from the New Jersey Department of Youth and Family Services for some time. The call finally came and we were instructed to drive to UMDNJ Hospital in Newark. We were instructed to go to the “Border Baby” unit, a sort of Land of Misfit Toys for infants. These babies (how many were there--30? 40?) were stacked in rows waiting for parents like us to come forward, waiting for family members--or just waiting. The nurses had their work cut out for them--how do you physically and emotionally care for these newborns? My knowledge from grad school regarding human development--attachment, bonding---all of that good stuff that I know is so important--didn’t UMDNJ know that this is critical? What kind of start to being one with the planet is this?

Our focus was re-directed from this overwhelming spectacle to one drab, used way-too-often, bassinet. And inside, a child weighing just over 6 pounds at 6 weeks. I had never seen a baby so small, so (I assumed) helpless.

We were there for about an hour. We fed her, we changed her, we held her, and we fell in love with her.

We went back home that evening, leaving Tamika in the Land of Misfit Toys. The call to the State worker was made the next day. “We’ll take her!” we breathlessly reported.

Help is on the way. To be continued...