It is the most bedraggled little thing – laying here waterlogged and soggy like a half drown kitten. Hair matted to its head, gasping for breath.
As I gaze upon it all I could think was ohhhh. Every instinct within me wants to pick it up and “fix” whatever is wrong. This little creature could die. Would I dare allow my emotions and love to get entwined with someone fragile once again? Would it respond to me? Would it live? I don’t even know if this is a “boy” or a “girl”.
I can’t help myself as I reach out to touch this little life. Of course I can’t turn away. I pick up the little one and hear a soft mewling cry. At least it is alive right now. Will it eat? What should I feed it? How did I come to find it just at this time? Ah, it is a girl!
Do I have time and energy and money for a commitment like this? It would be an incredible commitment, I do realize that….
I see those tiny blue eyes looking up at me and the minute fingers grasping at mine. If I don’t, who will?
Why are you here in this utility room? Who put you here in the dark, ignoring your very life and leaving you exposed to die?
Where is the mother who bore you, the father who brought you into being? The doctor and medical staff who pledged to support life? How could they take this terrible turn in their minds twisting things into what this has become? How can they rationalize being part of killing a human baby, innocent and never having had a chance. You are not a choice. You are a human being made in the image of God, with a life before you not to be snuffed out moments after your abrupt birth.
How can I not help? How can I possibly walk away knowing what would happen if I did. What incredible circumstances would make me NOT choose life? I don’t even want to know.
“Hey, you, what are you doing in this utility room?”
“Ah, ohhh! Messy lunchtime in pediatrics, just returning the mop,” I slip the tiny infant into my large lab coat pocket in the middle of the unused wash cloths left from lunch. I pray she will not make a sound as I turn to go.
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