The Humbling Power of Baby Formula

Perhaps one of the greatest benefits to living and working in a developing country is being humbled on a daily basis.

That picture is humbling.  It's a picture of baby Cedric back in April shortly after he came into our lives.  His mother was not mentally capable of caring for him and he was taken in by another woman in his community after she found him abandoned in a latrine.  His new mama fed him the only thing she could afford - cow's milk.  Of course, cow's milk does not have all the things that a two month old infant needs to grow.  His new mama brought him into my friends Julie (Country Director of Gardens for Health) and Brad's house because they are renowned in their local community for being able to help when help is most needed - for medicine, food, a quiet place to study, condoms.  Brad and Julie agreed to take him in (with the help of the many women who work with them) long enough to help get him healthy.

Cedric was declared malnourished by the public hospital in Kigali.  However, even after emergency high-nutrition milk and a lot of love, Cedric wasn't gaining weight.  Brad, a certified nurse, worried he might be displaying symptoms of Failure To Thrive - a not fully-understood condition in which children don't progress, often for unexplained reasons.  After a few weeks of non-improvement, Brad and Julie asked if I could help get Cedric admitted to Butaro Hospital, since I know many of the doctors who work there and could probably get them to give him special attention. 

A few days and a very long car ride later, Cedric was naked on a weighing scale in the intake room of the emergency ward at Butaro.  All his tests came back negative.  "He probably just needs more food, all the time," a mentor doctor from Harvard told me.  Two days later, Cedric was headed home.  Malnourished, but not sick, they said.  Partners in Health sent us on our way with three cans of baby formula and a promise that they would continue supplying Cedric with as much formula as he needed for as long as he needed it.

This is a photo of him taken about a week ago:

I can barely find the old stick skinny baby in the picture of this fatty.  When I hold him now, it's like someone sneaked into Brad and Julie's house and did a switcheroo in the middle of the night. 

Perhaps the most humbling thing about holding Cedric and thinking about his journey is not what he's already endured and survived in his very short life.  It's the road in front of him.  Although he's clearly significantly healthier, he has a long fight ahead.  His motor skills are much improved, but he still shows symptoms of possible palsy.  Given that his mother is mentally unsound, he could have inherited any number of genetic issues from her.  Since she didn't realize she was pregnant, she likely drank alcohol  while he was in utero.  And Brad and Julie won't be around forever.

But for now, he's thriving, and crying and sleeping and sweating and eating and pooting and smiling.  And the fact that he's around for any of that, is humbling.