The following story about Brighton is the second in a series of three “Perfectly Human” posts that will highlight the work of the Special Hope Network, an organization devoted to serving the needs of children with intellectual disabilities in Zambia. In this season of giving, as I mentioned in my post this morning, I urge readers to consider a small (or large) gift to support SHN. 

In the past few months, we have had the distinct privilege
of being used by God to save one little life. It sounds so dramatic, doesn’t
it, to say it that way– “save one little life”–but sometimes that just how God
works, dramatically. 

His name is Brighton Mashili, and he was on the path toward
death when we met him. He was eight weeks old, and was only 3.5 kg, which is.
7.7 pounds (see photo to the left). His mom had brought him to the Chelston Clinic, a physiotherapy
clinic in a compound in Lusaka near where we were living at the time. It had
taken three days for him to be born. The doctor’s said “cerebral palsey” and
“reduced oxygen,” and gave him, at one week old, a prescription to begin
Physiotherapy (the Zambian term for physical therapy). 

So, Mom Jennipher brought Brighton as a tiny little one week
old for Physio. Of course, there was nothing she could do but weigh him and
watch him grow. Mom brought him back every week, and every week he was weighed,
until we were called. “Brighton isn’t growing, the PT said!  What can we do?” So I packed Brighton
and his Mom into our vehicle, and took them to UTH, the University Teaching
Hospital in Lusaka. 

We paid 80,000 Kwacha (about $13) to enter the paying line of people waiting to be treated.  The non-paying looked so long that they would never make it through those in that line by the end of the day. We saw a triage nurse who weighed and measured and checked Brighton’s temperature. Then we sat in another line to wait for the ‘doctor’. He swooshed in awhile later, talking with people over our heads (literally, not figuratively) about all kinds of things unrelated to the baby in front of him, and finally got around to, sort of, examining Brighton. I say sort of, because I have seen a lot of examinations in my time as a parent of three children who each have Down syndrome, and I would definitely NOT call what he did an examination. Then, without listening to her, he let Jennipher have it for not feeding him enough.

She held it together well, I thought, as she explained to him that her breasts felt different than they did with her older two children, and that she didn’t think she was producing enough milk, or possibly that he didn’t have the mouth strength to suck.  He very callously told her that since he, Brighton, had been born in the neonatal unit, that they should be following him, and that she should not be here.  She, teary-eyed, said that they had seen him that week, and that even though he was losing weight (which no baby at eight weeks old should be doing), they weren’t concerned, and didn’t give her anything to do about the weight loss.  We both asked him about supplemental feeding, in case the weight loss was an inability to suckle. He dismissed both of our concerns, and I decided at that moment that my learning through Samuel’s malnutrition when we had received custody of him at thirteen- months old, when he weighed only 10.2 pounds, would come in handy here.

I stopped on the way home from the fateful appointment, bought formula, a bottle, and a breast pump. We went home to our house, gave Jennipher some food and a drink, and started going over directions. She should pump all she could throughout the day, to increase milk production, if at all possible. She should feed Brighton as per the can’s instructions, as much as he would eat. If in two days, he wasn’t eating more than he was today, she should call us. We checked in daily, until we were confident that she understood, and that Brighton was safely on the path to health.  

That was in July. Now we are in December, five months later, and our very sick little baby who had CP and oxygen deprivation is now a whopping 7.93 kg or 17.46 lbs!  He doesn’t show any signs of CP or oxygen loss, is developing normally, and, we think, will have a full recovery. Had not God put us on the same path as Jennipher and Brighton, with the previous experience we had with Samuel, our son, this little guy would probably not be here today. We are thankful to have been used in this way, that we can clearly see the benefit of our experiences with our own children benefitting the children we are serving here.