This week was the most difficult I have had since I have been in Romania. On Tuesday I went to the hospital and spent time with my little hospital baby girl. She was weak, and the worst I had ever seen her. Her breathing was ragged, and her eyes kept on rolling back in her head. I realized that she was going to die. I just didn’t think she would be gone the next day.
On Wednesday I went to the hospital, and saw that all of the children in her room had been moved to the room next door. Her room had obviously been recently cleaned and sanitized. There were only two names on the door, my baby’s (her name was Pîn – meaning pine tree) was gone. That’s when I knew, even though I hoped that she had just been moved to another area of the hospital. I just needed to know for sure, and I really hoped that a nurse or doctor who spoke English would be at the hospital because I couldn’t get the nurse to tell me if she was gone. After spending time with some of the other babies, an English speaking doctor came in, and I was so grateful. He is great, and he really cares about the orphan and abandoned children in the hospital. I asked him if he knew where Pîn was. He just replied that he was so sorry. She had pneumonia and some heart problems and they couldn’t save her.
The hardest part is that if she were in the States, she likely would have lived. If she had the care she could receive there, she likely wouldn’t have even gotten so sick, and that breaks my heart. This is one of the hardest things to see with all of the children I work with. So many of them have physical problems that here are debilitating and potentially fatal, simply because they can not receive the proper medical care that they need.
It is bittersweet, because I love her. But the reality is that I leave in a month, and I could not be there for her. I would never have known what happened to her, and I would never want her to have to grow up in an orphanage. Now she is in heaven with those who love her and I am glad her suffering is over, even though I do miss her. Even though Pîn was just a tiny baby, she has impacted my life in so many ways that I will never forget, and I will never forget her.
Today we went to some monasteries. You can buy candles and light them for the living and the dead. In the orthodox religion, it is like sending a prayer. I lit one for her.