Angel

*I changed the name of the little girl in the blog for anonymity purposes*

“Death is just a part of life.”  Right now that saying just doesn’t seem fair.

On Friday 28^th June we lost one of our smallest babies to the common norovirus.  Anathi was 7 and a half months and such a gorgeous little girl.  I remember the day she was brought into Bethany, a 3-month premature baby who had already been in hospital for the first 8 weeks of her life.  At the age of 3 months, she was still the size of a new born.  She was honestly the smallest thing I had ever seen; she fit perfectly into my forearm.  She was so under weight that her eyes were bugling out from the sockets… truth be told, she looked a little bit like ET, but it made her even more precious.  When I first changed her there was not a once of fat on her, she was skin and bones, which felt like they were about to break at any moment.  It was very touch and go but being the fighter she was, she pulled through.

Anathi continued to grow bigger and stronger everyday.  She would regularly polish off two full bottles of milk.  When we started feeding her vegetable, she was less than impressed… often after feeding, more of it would actually be on me rather than in her!!  She had a little stubborn streak about her, but she would just sit and stare at everyone in the nursery, taking everything in. 

Although Anathi was a lot stronger, she had another stint in hospital in March.  Again being a little fighter, she pulled through and we brought her home a week later J

Last week there was an outbreak of the norovirus at Bethany that has affected many of our children.  It’s a very common vomiting and diarrhoea virus that is so preventable, treatable and one that you wouldn’t be overly concerned about if a child got it in the UK.  Many of the babies and elder children have had episodes of the virus, leading to dehydration.  However the virus seemed to hit Anathi very hard.  At 4am on Thursday 27^th June, she was rushed to Nelson Mandela hospital and admitted into the Intensive Care Unit.  Thursday evening she had responded really well to the medication and was taken out of ICU and moved to the paediatric ward.  I went to visit her on Friday morning and although she was hooked to a drip and on oxygen, she looked so much better.  I spent about 30 minutes with her, just holding her.  It never dawned on me that that it could possibly be the last time I saw her.  That evening she took a turn for the worse and her body went into shock; despite being moved back into ICU and the doctors best efforts, she was wasn’t strong enough this time.

Any death is hard to comprehend, but a baby just feels so unfair and unnatural.  A funeral will be held for her this coming week and candles will be lit in her memory.  Although she didn’t have the best start to life, I hope she knows how much everyone at Bethany loved her.  Rest In Peace Beautiful Angel, your life was way too short.

The reason I chose the name Anathi is because the Xhosa meaning is “they are with us.”