Bringing Home HIV
Words on paper do not do justice to how I feel. God has given me a heart to love children. A heart that longs daily to be called Mama. This story is the start of a great plan that my God has for me and baby Thema.
Upon arriving at El Shaddai orphanage in Swaziland, Africa, I was asked a somewhat contraversial question that I honestly thought I would TRUELY never have to face answering in real life.
The question was purposed by my teammate and sister in Christ, Kara. She loves me and knows my heart for adoption. Even more she knows mine and Ben’s struggle with infertility and the hurts it has brought us over the years. Her question was not hard to answer at the time. It wasn’t real life. It wasn’t going to happen to me, or so I thought.
She simply asked… Would you adopted a child with HIV?
…. with no hesitation, my answer came….HECK YES. If God calls me to love a child like they were my own, I would… Because they would be mine. RED, YELLOW, BLACK, or WHITE… It wouldn’t matter. They are all precious in HIS sight. I have known from the beginning of time that God has called me to love unconditionally. Why would HIV be a factor in loving a child like my own?
Fast forward 2 weeks later when I finally arrived on site with the beautiful orphans on the mountainside in Swazi. As orientation took place I learned that there were only 4 children out of 90 something kids that had the HIV virus. Surprised by this, considering 90% of the country has it, I thought… Yep the odds are in my favor. If God blesses me with a child to love and call my own from El Shaddai, I won’t have to really worry about answering that question.
Soon I would meet the diva of all babies in the baby house. Her name is Thema. Our squad affectionately nicknamed her Marshmallow! She is guessed to be a year and half. She is strong willed and has a knack for rolling her eyes at the most appropriate times. And she will throw a fit in a New York minute. She loves to eat old orange peels that have been rolled in the dirt. Often I would dig dirt out of her teeth as she felt it was a staple in her diet. It didn’t take me long to realize that this little nugget was quickly stealing my heart.
One day while working in the baby house I learned that adoption is closed to outsiders. I was extremely sad. The kind of sad that hurts but you know there is nothing you can do about it. God and I had a little chat. It went like this ” Lord, I want this baby”… “Libby, if this baby is meant for you, she will be yours”. I still moped around the rest of the morning. At lunch a friend called me over, she asked if I had heard about my baby Thema. Because everyone knew she was mine, and I hers. She said, “She is the little girl that has HIV. She was also fed beer from day 1 and was found living in filth. Her brothers were brutally raped, beaten, and left for dead hanging upside down in a tree at the hands of their father.” This news was shocking. I tried to act like it wasn’t affecting me too much. I walked away.
Before I knew it my lunch was coming back up. I crouched behind a mountain of rocks below our house crying… Screaming… and telling God that He got it all wrong.
This feeling of sickness has not yet left me. My stomach still hurts. I don’t know why this sweet child has been cursed. I hurt for her. I have come to grips with the fact that she may not live a long life. Or that she may feel shunned by others. But what I haven’t given into is the thought that her life is not worth living. What I learned from my sweet Marshmallow is that God has a plan for her life. She will be used as a tool to touch so many lives. Her story of hope will make an impact. And my prayer is that Jesus is the center of it.
Grasping the fact that the one that I fell in love with had HIV was hard. The hypothetical questions of how I could parent this child clouded my mind at all hours. How would we be able to financially support her? Would she be allowed in a public school? I’m sure other moms would not want a play date with us. Do I really want to adopt a child knowing they may not outlive me? What if my other children contracted it from her? Through the crossfire of these thoughts I continued to be reminded of the story of the Great Commission which I know I have been commanded to follow. Jesus called His follwers to go and make disciples of all men. He did not say the road would be easy. He did not say we would understand the ups and downs of life. But He did say that through it all He would be with us always. And His promise included me and my future children.
I am not sure if I will ever see Thema again. Or if she will one day call me mommy. But what I do know is that in real life my answer to Kara’s daunting question would be… Yes Lord, Send her to me!
(Picture #1 by Terin James, Picture #2 by Sam Kolden)
