Our month in India was… well, perfect. It now makes sense why we had to spend an extra month in South Africa, patiently waiting underneath terrifying thunderstorms in our tents, for the approval of our Indian visas: something so magnificent and rare doesn’t come without extra effort.
As you might have read, my team lived in a beautiful house in a wealthy neighborhood overlooking all of Hyderabad. It is the newest critical care center for the special needs orphans at Sarah’s Covenant Homes. When we arrived in the beginning of the month, the house was an overload of bare marble floors; but by the time we left, there were desks, couches, a dining room table, beds, and many new volunteers sharing the cozy space with us!
We each fell head over heels in love with our babies that we cared for. Our conversations as a team revolved around everything baby: diaper changing, spit up, cuddling, and the goo’s & gaa’s that they made as we swooned over them. We each experienced so many beautiful moments with our children. I will never forget the night that I danced on the rooftop, twirling little Kenneth, the city lights around us lighting the dance floor. Time seemed to stand still when his tense little muscles were finally able to relax in my arms.
Photo Credit: Megan Kennedy
Not only were things wonderful with the babies, but life as a team enriched so much during our time in India. I began to finally see my teammates not just as the women that I was placed in community with, but as friends. We cooked (the curry we were originally fed made us way too sick, despite how delicious it was!) and ate every meal together. We played a wicked game of sardines, we had game nights with Alice & Grace, danced in tuk-tuks while zooming around the city to get the only beef burgers in town (at Hard Rock), and we shared our hearts with one another 24/7.
Along with all of those beautiful moments, we also experienced a great deal of heartache together as a team. One morning, we awoke to be informed that Laura’s tiny baby girl had unexpectedly passed away just hours before. None of us had answers as we surrounded her fragile body during her funeral later that day, but we were certain that she was finally pain-free and reunited with her Daddy. What a blessing it was that Laura was able to be her mommy and pray over her during her final weeks on this earth. (Read Laura’s blog about it here).
The night before we left, the next World Race team came. Through our heart-wrenching sadness of leaving the little ones who we poured all of ourselves out to, it was so wonderful to meet the ladies who would become our babies’ new mothers when we left. We were assured just by spending one evening in their presence that they would love the babies so well, and we had nothing to worry about.
And eventually, the time came for us to leave this house of so much hope. As soon as the taxi pulled up to whisk us away, everyone’s hearts sank at once. My teammates cried as we held our babies close for one last time. In minutes, the ayyahs (widowed women who took care of the babies full-time) as well as the new team had tears pouring down their faces as well. We held each other close as the new team prayed over us, telling us that they were honored to take over our roles as mothers.
And when we left to meet our squad at a hostel in a different part of the city, I realized that although I had physically left, my heart was still there on the rooftop, spinning Kenneth and kissing his soft forehead as I sang to him. I felt so empty, almost like I had just gone through a break-up and a part of me was missing from all that I had come to know.
My squad mates rejoiced as they reunited once again after a memorable month in India. Hugs and stories were exchanged, and excitement was tangible in the atmosphere. But it was different for my team; we all struggled as we forced smiles on our faces and choked back the tears that so badly wanted to fall. We were only about a 30 minute drive away from our babies, but it felt like we were already worlds apart from the precious gifts we had been given.
Kenneth, you are perfect. You fought and won against death numerous times, and now you are growing stronger every day. You can even eat food through your mouth now—how far you’ve come just in the short month that I got to know you! Your favorite thing is being held. You were about 14 months old when I knew you, yet you were so small that you had to wear clothes for 3-6 month olds. Your eyelashes are uncommonly long; in fact, some girls would kill to have those lashes of yours. The cooing sound that you make melts my heart to complete liquid. I pray that your vision and hearing will be fully restored someday; I want you to experience all of the beauty of this world. And for as much as I love you… know that you have a Papa in heaven who loves you exponentially more than I’d ever be able to. I pray that you grow up to know him and trust in him.
You will always hold the most special of places in my heart, Kenneth and India.
I will not say goodbye, no. I’ll only say “see you later”.
Yes, I’ll see you later.
