John Mark

It all happened so fast. Monday night we received a call to see if we could foster an HIV baby, and by Wednesday, he was gone.

Gone home, that is.

I met John Mark in the Special Care Baby Unit (SCBU) of the hospital on Tuesday morning. He seemed simply huge (at 2 kg - about 4-1/2 lbs) compared to the babies in the other incubators. And he slept peacefully, healthy and quiet. I fell in love with him, as I'd fallen in love with all of the other babies in the room, including the one who was only 800 g (1 lb, 12 oz) at birth. He didn't have a name, and the nurses refused to give him a temporary name since they thought he would be confused when he got a real name later on. I laughed at this and called him John Mark.

John Mark's mother was HIV-positive, and so he would be taken care of by a local Christian organization that works with those affected by HIV/AIDS. A representative showed up on Wednesday to pick him up and take him home. John Mark's mother wanted to pray for her son before she gave him up, so we all waited outside and chatted.

At last, the chaplain, Justina, emerged from the SCBU and told us that the mother couldn't give up the baby.

So John Mark went home with his mother. My heart broke. I know that in general, the best place for a baby is with his mother. And that is probably what was best for John Mark. But... what will happen to him when his mother dies of AIDS in a few years? Will his extended family care for him or abandon him? Will his mother give him the drugs he needs in order to conquer HIV? Will she agree to give him formula instead of breastfeeding? If we're to be honest, what are his chances of survival?

I can't answer any of these questions. And I never will be able to. John Mark will change names and likely be passed from home to home, heart to heart. But I won't forget John Mark. And I pray he will live an abundant life.