Opportunity Call: A Necessary Separation is not an Easy Separation

Ruth and I are thrilled to share that on the evening of Monday, February 2^nd our Yasmine[i] Joy Hamoud joined us in the open world weighing in at a sturdy 6 lbs 5 ounces. The birth happened earlier than expected but we have no complaints; we could hardly wait any longer for our girl to be with us. There were some complications with the labor that have contributed to a challenging first week for Yasmine. The umbilical cord was wrapped around her leg, which required Ruth to have a c-section. Yasmine’s breathing was hampered by fluids in the lungs and she was immediately placed in neonatal intensive care in order to get all her systems functioning at full strength. She’s making great improvement but still needs some time. So after 9 months of waiting for my baby to come out, I have to wait some more for the chance to hold her in my arms as my heart long desires. Ruth is making a good recovery at home. She has been such a champion through this entire pregnancy and birth; she has slipped into the role of mother with grace, wisdom and strength. I love her so very much and only wish Yasmine were near to ease her discomfort.

The waiting is not easy (it never is) but we are ever mindful of the provisions bestowed on Yasmine. She has the deepest affections of adoring parents, an international network of family and friends offering constant love and prayers, financial resources to access necessary care, modern medicine to give life a helpful boost, and a claim to citizenship and official identification (which millions of children around the world are in fact denied). Far too many babies lack the essentials that Yasmine has been gifted, and I regret that her own Hamoud relatives are among those many. Our comfort is that Yasmine’s most important provision is that which has been provided to all: the unending love of a faithful, mighty God who promises His nearness. We find great peace in this enduring Truth.

Yasmine is going to be just fine; we know she is in good hands. Our frustration is simply that she is not our hands. We regret that we have to leave our daughter with others so that she can receive care that we cannot give. We indeed see the necessity of this, though we naturally dislike the reality of separation. Being home is not satisfying when part of home is not with us. There is a lot of lurking temptation in this trial of waiting. We are tempted towards feeling disappointed for missing a part of parenthood experience we have long imagined. There is the inclination to entertain ideas of doubt about the decisions and methods of the medical team. Then we must contend with the ugly attack of guilt that we are letting our child down by not being with her to care for her in these vulnerable hours. These are vile temptations that we resist with truth and faith. It is a struggle, but it is one where we do not struggle alone. I eagerly await the moment when we can finally feel that which we know: Yasmine is here!

This struggle of separation from Yasmine has allowed me to reflect on the situation of the children living at Dar El Awlad. The boys in our residential program are likewise in a vulnerable state. For a variety of reasons their birth families are not able to provide for their needs at this time, and we believe that Dar El Awlad is a place where children can have these urgent needs met. This requires a separation. It is a separation that may be understandable and necessary, but there is pain and heartache in it nonetheless. Yasmine is tiny; she will not remember the time her parents had to leave her behind in the hospital so that she could get the help she needed in order to move ahead in her life. Our children are not so small, and they will not forget the hardship of leaving their family in order to get a better chance for a future. Their parents may have made the right choice but I know it is not an easy choice. My own family history is evidence of this bittersweet.

My grandmother did not place my father in Dar El Awlad, but she did keep him here. There was a moment many, many years ago when she intended to take him home with her but ultimately decided to let him stay. She could not deny that my father had an opportunity at Dar El Awlad that she could never provide. The result of this decision is that they, mother and son, spent 90% of their lives in separation. However, there are other outcomes of this decision, one of which just entered the world this week. A lot was lost in separation, but I am of the opinion that even more was gained.

I believe that we at Dar El Awlad must always take separation into account. We must remember that the hurt our children endure each day that they are away from their families. Likewise, we must honor the sacrifice of the dozens of parents who have, for the sake of their children, chosen the pain of separation over the delight of nearness. It is our joy when we see this separation end and our children return to the place where every child is meant to be: the care of a secure, healthy home with loved ones. It is a pleasure that Ruth and I dearly hope to experience very soon. My arms are ready to hold Yasmine for the first time; I cannot wait until she is ready too!

[i] Yasmine is Arabic for Jasmine. It’s pronounced yes-mean.