What Could Be Cuter?

Micah Salvador Bolanos

On November 9, 2010 we counted our 11th boy. Micah Salvador Bolanos came into the world 10 weeks ahead of schedule and just two and a half hours after we landed at SeaTac airport. Two months later I finally have a bit of time to write how his arrival came about and what it was like.

The plan was to go to Washington to celebrate Thanksgiving and have some much needed rest. However, the Lord and Micah had another plan. Our travel day had gone really well. We'd left Oaxaca in the early morning and were excited to be going to visit my family and have some time away from all the hubub of our daily life with ten sons. Our travels had gone without a hitch.

The last hour we were in the air, I had felt uncomfortable, but just thought it had been a long day and I would feel better once we got home. That was not going to be the case. We got down to the baggage claim about 5: 45pm, and I started feeling really bad. Looking back, I was starting to have contractions, but didn't really think that at the time.

So we got our bags. My mom and grandparents picked us up and I was still feeling really uncomfortable. We were heading to my grandma's house in Everett for dinner. No one in the car really pin pointed it down as labor pains. Though the "pains" were a minute long and two minutes apart. I could still talk through all the pain and move around. I don't think I could even have said they were contractions because it was just too early. He couldn't  be coming. I mean I had just gotten off an airplane.

We arrived at my grandma's and the "pains" got more intense. I couldn't sit still and was in a lot of pain. My mom called a friends midwife and she said, "Get her to the hospital. They will stop the contractions." My mom thought, "Contractions? She's not having contractions. It's too early."

But we made our way to the car again and my mother drove like a crazy woman to Providence Regional Medical Center off of Pacific Avenue in Everett. These fifteen or so minutes were the longest minutes of my life. The contractions were coming really close together and the pain was really really intense. She passed the Emergency Room entrance and had to turn around using precious time. As she pulled to a stop in front of the emergency room warm water started running down my legs. Scared to death, I told my mom that my water had broke. I got out of the car without my flip flops on and made my way barefoot into the emergency room lobby. It was about 8pm.

I yelled and cried at the receptionist that my water had broken and I was only 29 weeks pregnant. The lady and everyone else in the lobby just kinda stared at me. It took them a minute to snap into action and even then they weren't moving fast enough for Ricardo's liking. Once I was sitting in the wheel chair he just started pushing me quickly down the hall, though he had no idea where we were going, and he'd barely said two words through the whole evening.

So we were moving toward the Women and Children's Pavilion, the building where women have babies. We came to a curtained off little room where they had me put on a gown and wanted to get my vitals. My mom was parking the car. The nurse was taking my blood pressure when a gush of water from my body.  I told her I felt like I should push. She said, "no, you don't need to push." She continued with the blood pressure cuff. I told her again, " I feel like I should push."

"No. You are going to be fine. Don't push." Mind you she didn't check to see how far dilated I was or anything. She wanted to take my blood pressure and hook me up to a fetal monitor. Apparently I couldn't possibly know what I was talking about in wanting to push.

Within my body things were moving extremely fast, however the people around me didn't seem to realize this. Ricardo was there the whole time, though he didn't really say anything. He appeared scared to death and unable to speak.

Finally, (well it could have only been a minute or two) they started moving me toward a birthing room. We didn't even make it to the elevators. We pulled out of the hallway into the "delivery 'em fast room," and it quickly filled with people, though still no doctor. I would come to find out there were three nurses and the neonatal team of a couple nurses, a nurse practitioner, and respiratory guy. The neonatal team was setting up the recessitation cart and finally the doctor appeared.

Upon his arrival the nurse who I'd been trying to work with said, "She says she thinks she should push," like I had no clue what I was talking about. The doctor took a look and replied, "Well your baby is crowning so go ahead and push." I knew it had been time. So in three short pushes of 10 seconds each Micah entered the world at 8:15pm.

Before the last push, the doctor said he would cut the cord quickly and I wouldn't get to touch him or even really see that much of him so they could make sure he was ok. They took him quickly and cut the umbilical cord and laid him on the recessitation cart and went to work. Micah didn't make any noise and was really purple. It took a few minutes for him to get stable, but he was alive. They rushed him upstairs to the NICU, the Newborn Intensive Care Unit where he would spend the first 52 days of his life.

So that is the crazy story of the evening of Micah's birth. The Lord knew precisely when he was going to come into the world and had it been anytime earlier that day he would not have lived. He's our little miracle and we're so glad to say that today he is thriving, gaining weight every day and getting to know all his big brothers and friends around the mission.

I'll continue to write about our NICU experience and all the ways that the Lord provided for our every need. We are truly blessed.

The first time I got to hold Micah, the day after he was born.

Micah's first Christmas.

It's been a while.

So I know it's been a really long time since I've posted on this blog. And so much has happened in our lives in the last few months. I'm working on the rather long story of our little boys birth. It will be posted soon, but for now, here's a picture of our beloved Micah Salvador Bolanos.

Meatballs

So I know it's been a while since I have posted anything on this blog and a situation presented itself today that just has to be shared because it's the kind of the thing that I feel like happens on a daily basis in having ten teenage sons.

So there has been this issue for a couple months of someone, one of the boys, putting gross old food in another boy's closet. Pio's closet, or his bed or his shoes. We never really knew who was doing it. There were suspicions, Chucho mostly, but it was never proved.

Then today, today Pio came raging into our house with a bowl of old, smelly, rotting meatballs, that apparently had been in the fridge for a couple weeks. Someone had placed the bowl of meatballs and a note on Pio's bed. The note read, "Yum, yum. Eat up."

Ricardo smelled the rancid meal and nearly vomited. So Pio was quite livid, and with good reason. This called for immediate attention.  Ricardo went to the boys and said that meals would be suspended until someone came forward and admitted to putting nasty food in Pio's things. Peer pressure is one of our favorite teachers.

So a minute later, Chucho came to Ricardo and said it had been him. He had no reason for his behavior other than saying that "Pio bothers him."

We like to let our children choose their consequences. So Chucho's two options of consequences were to eat two of the meatballs that he declared "yummy" or do Pio's chores for two weeks. He chose to do the chores for two weeks which we believe is the better consequence. So we hope that Chucho will stop putting nasty food in Pio's stuff and will generally learn from this situation.

This is just a little snippet of our lives on a daily basis.

Eduardo

When I was 17 I spent six weeks at a children's home in Ensenada, Baja California, Mexico. I served there as an intern. The most profound moments I spent there, was when I watched three children leave the home.

It was a foggy, Saturday morning. It had been colder than normal and these three beautiful children were going back to live with their mom. Everyone was standing outside saying their goodbyes. Everyone was crying, as the kids got into the bed of a pick up truck. Their stuff was next to them in black, plastic garbage bags as they prepared to drive away. Their mom was in the front seat with her new husband. He was a nice, kind man who would treat them well. And with that they drove away into the world. You could see the tops of their heads over the tailgate.

And as I watched this seen unfold, and I held the hands to two little kids who were not going home that day, I looked around and noticed Edna. Edna ran the children's home, and she was standing off to the side, kind of out of the way. And she had tears running down here cheeks. And after the truck was out of sight, she wiped her face and went inside.

And in that moment, I had thought to myself, "how can she just let them drive away like that? She loved them and invested so much into them. And now, they are gone."

Today I have become Edna. The caregiver, the one who loves them so much, watching them drive away. And my heart is breaking. My Eduardo will leave today, after making some huge, very unwise decisions. And I understand the situation. My head works just fine, but my heart is broken. The decision wasn't mine, but I can't help but question, what is best for him? No one else sees much good in him, and I just feel bad.

He had never believed that he would be told to leave this place. And after the decision was made and he was told, he came with me and we went on a short walk. We walked to a bench and sat down. He asked a few questions and then started crying. I cried with him, I'm still crying now. I said, "Eduardo, but you are going back with your mom. You always tell me how much she loves you and you love her. You tell me how nice she is and that you love your grandma too. You had told me you wanted to leave and be with her."

And he said, "Andrea, I never wanted to leave like this. And how is she going to love me after all I have done?"

I tried to assure him that a mother's love doesn't end because you made a mistake and that his mom will always love him no matter what he does. I hope I'm right. So if you read this blog today or tomorrow or in a couple weeks, please pray for me and Eduardo.

I know in my head that God is sovereign and He works all things for good. My heart just hurts.

Haiti

We are off to Haiti. We're leaving tomorrow morning and will be gone until February 10. If you would like to read more about what we will be doing in Haiti you can check out www.camanochapelmissions.org

Thank you for your prayers.

Plan D

Plan A was to go to Oaxaca and serve for three months, then go to Haiti and then return to work in the Mission in Baja. These were our original thoughts and plan. Oh how things have changed.

So we went to Oaxaca and served and in so doing we fell in love with the children’s home. We felt quite at home there and loved the staff. We have made great friends and met incredible people. Ricardo and I have been truly blessed by the time we spent there.

We also became houseparents to the teenage boys and have completely fallen in love with them. Their house is a bit crazy and on occasion somewhat out of control, but it is fun and we can see the Lord working in them and in us.

So that brought us to Plan B which was go home to Baja for a few days, head out on the mission trip to Haiti, then go back home to Baja, pack up some things and return to Oaxaca as soon as possible. Plan B was in question first because of the earthquake that rocked Haiti on January 7^th. We wondered if our trip would be cancelled. So far it has not been so the Haiti plan is a go. Then Plan B was in question again due to flooding in Baja California. They have had an incredible amount of rain in the last week which has demolished bridges and proven parts of the highway impassable. So at this point we cannot even drive to our house.

The missionaries and visitors at the Baja Mission are trapped there since the bridge connecting them north floated away in the bloated river. Tobin our house-sitter hasn’t been to our casa in over a week because he is trapped at the Mission. We are praying that our house is fine and that no water seeped in anywhere. All this water in Baja has turned dirt roads into pits of mud and made it impossible for people to get around.

Also stores supplies are dwindling, as trucks are not able to go down and resupply. The truck that takes weekly supplies to the Mission is stuck in Ensenada. Please pray that the Lord will supply the needs of those not only living at the Mission but the workers in the fields as well. The people are so poor and live in such extreme situations that I cannot imagine how cold and desperate they must feel.

This brings us to Plan C. Plan C was never really a plan, but it was a passing thought that seemed pretty attractive for a while. We formulated plan C with our friends Jill and Janelle in Oaxaca. They believe due to all the natural disasters and crazy weather we should just stay in Oaxaca, cancel our trip to Haiti, and visit Baja when the roads dry up and the bridges are repaired.

So now we are on Plan D which is to head to LA and visit the Irvings before we go to Haiti. Hopefully by the time we get back from Haiti the highway to our house will be fixed and we can go home for a week or so before we go back to Oaxaca.

We left Oaxaca at 5 a.m. Saturday, January 22^nd. The boys woke up to say goodbye to us and it was a pretty sad morning having to leave. Saturday we drove all the way to Guadalajara where we spent the night and are now driving north. We plan to cross the border at Nogales, which borders Tucson, Arizona and then drive from there to LA. It will be a nice little vacation to visit our friends in LA. We haven’t seen them in such a long time and we haven’t been to the States since the beginning of October.

So that is all for now. We are looking forward to going to Haiti. It’s going to be an incredible experience, we are sure. But we cannot wait to go back to Oaxaca. We feel like we help meet a need there with the boys. It’s a privilege getting to parent them, and getting to know them better. We know that God is doing things in their lives and it’s encouraging to know that we get to be a small part of it.