Thirteen years is a long time to wait.

I graduated from Sunset High School in 1994 and headed to Serukam. No, that’s not the name of a small university out east. It’s where I grew up. I took one year off before starting college (at Taylor Unv.) and revisited the medical compound where I spent ten years of childhood. I did everything from babysitting a pet monkey, to organizing medical supplies, to traveling with a team of nurses to give free medical exams in remote villages to women and babies.

One baby came home with me. He was four-month old Kris. His mother died of TB and pneumonia, leaving him with a case of illnesses all his own. Kris’s father, living in the middle of a rice paddy in a thatched bamboo box was desperate for food. He sold the baby to a stranger for a stack of crackers. The hospital staff found out, sought-down the baby and stranger, bought back the infant (not in crackers), and he was placed in my lap.

Kristandi is what I named him. The search began for a family to take Kris home. While we waited he needed extra care and attention, and I was the chosen one.

Petrified Anxious Nervous 18-Year Old Me.
Abandoned Nameless Ill 4-Month Old Kristandi.

Kris stayed with me for one week and four days. I was haggard and tired by day two of sleepless nights as he wailed in his sick little body. I carried him in a sling throughout the day, his little body clinging to mine. He was nicknamed “Si manis” or Sweet Baby. His right eyebrow arched when he was serious or happy. He laughed with his mouth wide open. He had a button nose. His fingers were soft and they wrapped themselves around mine at night during a bottle feed or a cry. Then there was that one night, The Night, I realized Kris knew me as his caregiver. At that moment I gave him my heart. I didn’t even try to withhold it.

A couple unable to bare children for 18 years found their way to Kris. The process was simple and quick. No papers, no signatures, just a gentleman’s handshake. He was there and then he was gone. I left for college and heard news about Kris for about two years thereafter. Then all went silent. Tribal warfare broke out and I believe the family had to flee their village. Kris is about 13 years old now.

Four-month babies will always hold a special place in heart. Today my babe is four-months old.

Still Petrified Anxious Nervous 31-year Old Me.
Always Mine Cherished Healthy 4-month old Shane.
Shane has been with us for four months (plus nine). I have been haggard and tired by sleepless nights and wailing. I carry him in my arms throughout the day, his arms wrapped around my arms. He’s nicknamed “Muffin” and “Buddy”. He half-smiles when he’s happy or sad. He laughs with his mouth wide, wide open. He has my button nose. His fingers wrap around mine. And there are those moments, those priceless moments when he shows me he knows he’s mine. And at those moments, I give him my heart. And I don’t even try to withhold it.

Kris taught me that the giving of myself, even for one week and five days, even if he would disappear into the jungles of Borneo, was the greatest gift I could ever give to a child. I dreamed for 13 years the day I would hold my own four-month old son. Today my baby is my dream come true.

Thank you Kris for sharing with me, Petrified Anxious Nervous 18-Year Old Me, a slice of your life. Thank you Shane, Always Mine Cherished Healthy 4-month old Shane, for you are my dream come true, 13 years in the waiting.

Waiting is hard. But you’re worth it. Boy, are you worth it!