Today is the eve of my friend Sarah's birthday. I went to a party at her home.
I like Sarah's friends, she seems to have found a situation that does not exist in my area- a group of single Christian friends who aren't single just because they are too young to get married. Some of them are single becuase they want to be, at least for now, and some are single for lack ot "the one (or another- whatever)" I see this basic group of people- oh- 2-7 times a year depending on a few factors. I like them, they are very nice, and intelligent and fun people. I haven't really built a friendship with of them so much, probably because we only see eachother 2-7 times a year- little do they know, I see them more often then I see the some of people I would consider my "good friends". On a side note, I think I have, however, succeeded in making an arch nemesis. Maybe not nemesis, but that sounds fun and dramatic. She taught me the meaning of "stink eye" and killed me in Mafia out of agression. I find the whole thing very amusing. I think it began with a boy she brought to a party talking to me, but maybe a little possesiveness of our mutual friend... you know, here comes that mysterious Jess girl that comes once in a while from far away and steals a bit of attention.... We should box, Sarah would be delighted if we boxed over her :). Maybe we should just break out the Wii and have at it. I thought we may be over it by now, but maybe not. Its all very amusing to me. She had a new beau this time and I didn't go anywhere near a conversation with him. I am not sure what her deal is- she is prettier than me and we are nothing alike- maybe she is like this with other girls and has alot of nemesises?? nemeseese?? nemesi?
Enemies.
Anyways, I realized that is has been months since I have hung out with a bunch of "Americans"- probably since Sarah's last shindig. Its odd, how life just morphs into something new. In college every friday was a party of sorts. Now I am lucky if I see any of my core friends in passing at church. I find myself more often in the company of my Karen friends these days, which is great. It was actually a little overwhelming being at Sarah's today. I can't really explain it. I am generally very at ease with her group- but tonight was different.
My phone rang at about 8:30- it was a 965 number-- It was Fatuma. Fatuma was coming out of the wood work once again. Part of Fatuma's story is in another post but a brief update on her is that she decided to stay with her husband and became pregnant with her second child. Her husband moved her to MN promising they would get an apartment and that the community would help them (because he had some financial trouble). She didn't want to go with all that she was because of the Somali community- and to top it off, right before she left a woman some how recieved one of Ishmaela's doctor bills (for $.41) and threatened to tell the entire community that Ishmaela had Fatuma's last name- basically renewing and expanding the drama.
So, lots of drama surrounding that event, but she went with Ibrahim to MN. Ibrahim did not get them an apartment for thier happy little family. He took her the home of a relative of his and told her he couldnt stay there, but that he was looking for a job and apartment. In fact he was here in Illinois doing no such thing--he left her, presumably for another woman or two, but one can never tell what the real story was. All I know is that during her 2nd pregnancy Fatuma felt hopeless and abandoned again. At one point she asked me to come and get her because Ibrahim came to her to say he was divorcing her- but her sister Halima took her in. Apparently all was forgiven between them. She had her baby, a boy almost 2 months ago. I was set to come and visit her a few weeks ago but she fell off the face of the earth. I hadn't heard from her or been able to reach her for a little over a month until tonight. She was calling to tell me that Halima kicked her and the babies out- on a snowy night in MN. She called Ibrahim and he came and picked them up. They are now staying at a shelter at a church. The baby has been in the hospital for 3 days with asthma. She doesn't know what will happen next.
We talked for a bit- caught up, made sure she was safe etc... and we hung up. I took a deep breath and put my smile on and went back to the couch and watch people play video games, though my head is spinning with thoughts of Fatuma and her family. I thought how odd it is to get news like this and then go back into the living room and watch video games, to my "other world"- and how no one would understand if I told them. They may hear "refugee" and categorize them as "other"-not out of anything impure or malevolent at all- it would be perfectly natural. Of course I could leave out the word "refugee" but anyone who knew me at all would know, and besides, who calls out of the blue on a Friday night with a story like this. In this case, I think that "other" would refer to someone a little less real than themselves, or their friends or family. Again, not in a malevolent or discrimanatory way- it would be natural... I know this because I am guilty of it myself, in a differnet context. But this is not some "other"- this is my friend Fatuma, who I have laughed and cried with--doing the best she can for her kids, operating on a hope in a man who had let her down over and over again, living in a shelter with 2 sick babies. Who lives in shelters? Fatuma does- gives me perspective for sure.
About an hour later my phone rang again- my heart sunk into my toes- it was Paw Moo.
A brief update on Paw Moo. It has been discovered that her unborn baby boy has significant defects. Because of this, I have my cell phone on me all the time, in case she miscarries. I hate that I have been operating under the assumption that her baby may die. But as much hope as I have, it could be a reality- so we have a plan. It makes sense, as terrible as it is.
She doesn't often call me, because communication over the phone is difficult, and I see her all the time with all the doctor appointments she has. So, when the phone rang on Friday night at 9:30 pm my heart sunk and my mind was racing with thoughts- I am an hour away, maybe she just wants to talk, why don't we have a back up plan incase I am an hour away- all of this in about 1/3 of a second. I answered and she was cheerful and chipper (sigh of relief) she was just calling to tell me that an English woman called her and left her a message. She read the number to me- it was my work number :). She wouldn't believe me at first. I had called her this morning because I somehow, after 2 months of hyper cellphone vigilance, forgot my cell at home. I was calling to give her my work number in case she had an emergency. I had also called her neighbor to tell her in case Paw Moo didn't understand the message. We had a good laugh. She said that as soon as she heard it was in English she hung up and didnt realize it was me.
Paw Moo had an amnio 2 weeks ago. We find the results on Monday. I spent my trip to Sarah's house pleading and bargaining with God over Paw Moo's baby- something that has become rather a habit of mine over the past few months. If her amnio comes back good, her case will be transferred to Loyola because they have a level 3 NICU and a pediatric heart unit. If not, Paw Moo will carry him until term and give birth at a normal hospital and he will die.
Aside from these things, he is great- He is strong, his little heart is beating strong and steady and so fast helping his little body to grow (apparently babies have really fast heartbeats). He is the size he should be. He is trying to live. We have been praying and praying and honestly I am more than a little dissappointed to see that hole in his skull and those cysts on the lungs everyweek when she goes for her ultrasound. I keep hoping, an expectant hope, for the tech to yell out "It's a miracle!" but instead they say "It all looks the same".
We have prayed and asked others to pray--and I dare to hope and pray for the best that Paw Moo's son will be born whole and complete despite all evidence to the contrary. This is not beyond the power of God. Well meaning people have reminded me that it may not be in God's will for him to live. I know that God's plans are higher than anything I could imagine. Anyways- we'll end there- thats a whole nother can of worms...
So I told her I would see her in the morning to pick up the girls for church. I hung up and went back into the living room- where I was quite restless. Thinking about Fatuma, and Paw Moo and about work and life etc... Yet, here I was, in Libertyville, celebrating the birthday of my dear friend Sarah- my "other world"- where people aren't in shelters and constant flight and babies aren't sick (though they could be, I suppose). Where Mafia is on the agenda and the night will end well and warm.
I like Sarah's friends, she seems to have found a situation that does not exist in my area- a group of single Christian friends who aren't single just because they are too young to get married. Some of them are single becuase they want to be, at least for now, and some are single for lack ot "the one (or another- whatever)" I see this basic group of people- oh- 2-7 times a year depending on a few factors. I like them, they are very nice, and intelligent and fun people. I haven't really built a friendship with of them so much, probably because we only see eachother 2-7 times a year- little do they know, I see them more often then I see the some of people I would consider my "good friends". On a side note, I think I have, however, succeeded in making an arch nemesis. Maybe not nemesis, but that sounds fun and dramatic. She taught me the meaning of "stink eye" and killed me in Mafia out of agression. I find the whole thing very amusing. I think it began with a boy she brought to a party talking to me, but maybe a little possesiveness of our mutual friend... you know, here comes that mysterious Jess girl that comes once in a while from far away and steals a bit of attention.... We should box, Sarah would be delighted if we boxed over her :). Maybe we should just break out the Wii and have at it. I thought we may be over it by now, but maybe not. Its all very amusing to me. She had a new beau this time and I didn't go anywhere near a conversation with him. I am not sure what her deal is- she is prettier than me and we are nothing alike- maybe she is like this with other girls and has alot of nemesises?? nemeseese?? nemesi?
Enemies.
Anyways, I realized that is has been months since I have hung out with a bunch of "Americans"- probably since Sarah's last shindig. Its odd, how life just morphs into something new. In college every friday was a party of sorts. Now I am lucky if I see any of my core friends in passing at church. I find myself more often in the company of my Karen friends these days, which is great. It was actually a little overwhelming being at Sarah's today. I can't really explain it. I am generally very at ease with her group- but tonight was different.
My phone rang at about 8:30- it was a 965 number-- It was Fatuma. Fatuma was coming out of the wood work once again. Part of Fatuma's story is in another post but a brief update on her is that she decided to stay with her husband and became pregnant with her second child. Her husband moved her to MN promising they would get an apartment and that the community would help them (because he had some financial trouble). She didn't want to go with all that she was because of the Somali community- and to top it off, right before she left a woman some how recieved one of Ishmaela's doctor bills (for $.41) and threatened to tell the entire community that Ishmaela had Fatuma's last name- basically renewing and expanding the drama.
So, lots of drama surrounding that event, but she went with Ibrahim to MN. Ibrahim did not get them an apartment for thier happy little family. He took her the home of a relative of his and told her he couldnt stay there, but that he was looking for a job and apartment. In fact he was here in Illinois doing no such thing--he left her, presumably for another woman or two, but one can never tell what the real story was. All I know is that during her 2nd pregnancy Fatuma felt hopeless and abandoned again. At one point she asked me to come and get her because Ibrahim came to her to say he was divorcing her- but her sister Halima took her in. Apparently all was forgiven between them. She had her baby, a boy almost 2 months ago. I was set to come and visit her a few weeks ago but she fell off the face of the earth. I hadn't heard from her or been able to reach her for a little over a month until tonight. She was calling to tell me that Halima kicked her and the babies out- on a snowy night in MN. She called Ibrahim and he came and picked them up. They are now staying at a shelter at a church. The baby has been in the hospital for 3 days with asthma. She doesn't know what will happen next.
We talked for a bit- caught up, made sure she was safe etc... and we hung up. I took a deep breath and put my smile on and went back to the couch and watch people play video games, though my head is spinning with thoughts of Fatuma and her family. I thought how odd it is to get news like this and then go back into the living room and watch video games, to my "other world"- and how no one would understand if I told them. They may hear "refugee" and categorize them as "other"-not out of anything impure or malevolent at all- it would be perfectly natural. Of course I could leave out the word "refugee" but anyone who knew me at all would know, and besides, who calls out of the blue on a Friday night with a story like this. In this case, I think that "other" would refer to someone a little less real than themselves, or their friends or family. Again, not in a malevolent or discrimanatory way- it would be natural... I know this because I am guilty of it myself, in a differnet context. But this is not some "other"- this is my friend Fatuma, who I have laughed and cried with--doing the best she can for her kids, operating on a hope in a man who had let her down over and over again, living in a shelter with 2 sick babies. Who lives in shelters? Fatuma does- gives me perspective for sure.
About an hour later my phone rang again- my heart sunk into my toes- it was Paw Moo.
A brief update on Paw Moo. It has been discovered that her unborn baby boy has significant defects. Because of this, I have my cell phone on me all the time, in case she miscarries. I hate that I have been operating under the assumption that her baby may die. But as much hope as I have, it could be a reality- so we have a plan. It makes sense, as terrible as it is.
She doesn't often call me, because communication over the phone is difficult, and I see her all the time with all the doctor appointments she has. So, when the phone rang on Friday night at 9:30 pm my heart sunk and my mind was racing with thoughts- I am an hour away, maybe she just wants to talk, why don't we have a back up plan incase I am an hour away- all of this in about 1/3 of a second. I answered and she was cheerful and chipper (sigh of relief) she was just calling to tell me that an English woman called her and left her a message. She read the number to me- it was my work number :). She wouldn't believe me at first. I had called her this morning because I somehow, after 2 months of hyper cellphone vigilance, forgot my cell at home. I was calling to give her my work number in case she had an emergency. I had also called her neighbor to tell her in case Paw Moo didn't understand the message. We had a good laugh. She said that as soon as she heard it was in English she hung up and didnt realize it was me.
Paw Moo had an amnio 2 weeks ago. We find the results on Monday. I spent my trip to Sarah's house pleading and bargaining with God over Paw Moo's baby- something that has become rather a habit of mine over the past few months. If her amnio comes back good, her case will be transferred to Loyola because they have a level 3 NICU and a pediatric heart unit. If not, Paw Moo will carry him until term and give birth at a normal hospital and he will die.
Aside from these things, he is great- He is strong, his little heart is beating strong and steady and so fast helping his little body to grow (apparently babies have really fast heartbeats). He is the size he should be. He is trying to live. We have been praying and praying and honestly I am more than a little dissappointed to see that hole in his skull and those cysts on the lungs everyweek when she goes for her ultrasound. I keep hoping, an expectant hope, for the tech to yell out "It's a miracle!" but instead they say "It all looks the same".
We have prayed and asked others to pray--and I dare to hope and pray for the best that Paw Moo's son will be born whole and complete despite all evidence to the contrary. This is not beyond the power of God. Well meaning people have reminded me that it may not be in God's will for him to live. I know that God's plans are higher than anything I could imagine. Anyways- we'll end there- thats a whole nother can of worms...
So I told her I would see her in the morning to pick up the girls for church. I hung up and went back into the living room- where I was quite restless. Thinking about Fatuma, and Paw Moo and about work and life etc... Yet, here I was, in Libertyville, celebrating the birthday of my dear friend Sarah- my "other world"- where people aren't in shelters and constant flight and babies aren't sick (though they could be, I suppose). Where Mafia is on the agenda and the night will end well and warm.
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