Swahili: “refuge; a place to run to.”
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medical mama
”There is a well-known African proverb that says, ‘It takes a village to raise a child.’ To our village, this is more than a proverb. It is a way of life. Children are seen to be the joy and responsibility of all.”
Juli BoitFrom Beyond the Skies
my full(ish) motherhood journey
In 2009, I founded a hospice in Kenya called Kimbilio where men, women, and children come either to heal or to be loved until they die.
At thirty-two, I was introduced to Titus. He grew up and lived only twelve miles away from the village where I was living.
On my thirty-third birthday, Titus asked me to marry him. It was an easy yes for me.
Fourteen months later, Titus and I, along with our entire community, awaited the arrival of our baby girl, Ella.
Titus and I hoped to have a second child, to give Ella a baby brother or sister.
In 2016, a one-kilogram baby boy wrapped in pink was brought to Kimbilio Hospice. His name was Ryan.
He had survived, against all odds, on water alone. His mother had died in childbirth; his dad had been killed in a roadside accident.
We weren’t sure how to handle introductions. “Ella, this is baby Ryan. He’s going to stay with us for a while.”
“He’s my baby,” she’d say in response.
Ryan was nearly six months old when, one night out of the blue, our easy-going baby started crying a cry I didn’t recognize.
Ryan was one of eight children. After testing, Ryan and two of his siblings were diagnosed with sickle cell disease.
In we 2017, traveled to Los Angeles to undergo a bone marrow transplant for both Ryan and Geoffrey in the hopes that they would be cured.
The challenges of the transplant procedure were both daunting and ever changing….yet worth the fight.