And Then There Was 105...

Jeff got a call today that there was a two-month old baby that needed to be placed with In Step. So Carla and I got in the car and headed to town to pick up this sweet little baby.

We arrived at the courts and spoke with the magistrate regarding this little one’s story.

Heartbreaking.

The mother is 14 years old. Her step-father is the father to the child. The mother is believed to be mentally unstable.

Sickening. Saddening.

The step-father is now in prison and the mother to the baby has been in a safe place for the past few weeks.

When we met the mother, she eyed Carla and me up and down.  Not a single smile cracked from her lips.

The baby from what we could see was very malnourished and not taken care of very well. The young mother was barely producing enough milk to feed her child on a regular basis. I can only hope and think that the mother was doing the best she could with the resources she had.

When it was explained to her by the children’s officer that we would be taking the baby to the children’s home, she did not want to release her baby to us. She said she wanted to consult her mother first.  She didn’t want to make a decision until she had her mother with her. We understood.

So the children’s officer took the girl to her family’s home to retrieve her mother. When they returned, the mother to the girl (the grandmother to the baby), was explaining to her daughter that this was the best thing for her baby. This way, she could still go to school and then be able to provide for her child someday. We explained that she could be able to come and see her child at any time.

And then she handed her baby over.

I grabbed a hold of this little baby, eyes wide open, light as a feather and kissed the forehead. I looked up to the mother and gave her a nod.

And then Carla and I saw it. A smile broke across this 14-year olds face. A big smile. She began laughing and joking with her mother. It was like she was 14 again. And the weight of the world, and this baby, had been lifted off her shoulders.

Carla and I said our good-byes and headed to the car.  We knew the name of the baby was Willingtone but we didn’t know if the baby was a he or she. They kept calling the baby a ‘she’ but based on the last name, we thought the ‘she’ was really a ‘he’. We went to the backseat of the car so that Carla could put a new diaper on him/her.

When I handed the baby to Carla, I saw a greenish brown spot on my hand and wrist area.

“Umm, I think I have poop on my hand.” I say.  And then a not so brilliant move, I smell my hand. “Yep, I have poop on my hand.”

Just at that moment, Carla opens up the blanket the baby is wrapped in and there in the bum area of the pajamas is a big greenish brown spot. Carla confirms what I have already smelt on my hand.

This baby didn’t have a diaper on, nothing. The poop had run down the legs and into the footie of the pajamas.

Carla got the baby all cleaned up and a new little diaper put on, a blanket around him/her and we were good to go.

When we got home, all the kids were excited to meet their new little brother/sister.

So is Willingtone a boy or a girl? During the diaper change, it was confirmed that Willingtone is a boy!!!! 

Thank you Lord for Willy. Thank you for keeping him safe and for trusting him to In Step. We’ll all take good care of him. This is a place of love and acceptance and he’s already got it from us all: love and acceptance.

Much Love,
Meredith