No One Wants a Child to Go Hungry

Child Abandonment and social justice

It's the summer of 2013 or 2014.

I’ve worked in a hospital for abandoned babies in Eastern Europe for about a year now. Each summer, teams of Americans come to visit the hospital to “love on babies” …and possibly donate money. Since I am currently the one working daily with the babies, handling the teams is my job.

As we leave the hospital and are waiting for the bus to go to lunch, the team leader sits down on the bench next to me with a sigh to offload his thoughts.

The baby hospital can be an emotionally draining place to visit, especially when you visit just one day out of the year. You don’t get to see the little steps of progress the babies are making, sweet smiles, and something like trust building in their eyes.

Actually, most of the large groups see the babies at their worst — guarded or crying. Two or three volunteers can be helpful — more hands to go around. But, dumping 20–30 volunteers into those small rooms is often overwhelming for the 8 to 15 full-time little residents. Sometimes, it takes more than a week for them to recover from the excessive stimulation.

The American foundation I work for knows these large-group whirlwind visits are problematic. The baby hospital is state-run, not ours. Twenty people tracking mud through a hygienic area is enough for the nurses we support to give sideglances.

At any time, the hospital could shut down the year-round work we do there and ask us never to come back. The babies would return to their cribs, unheld, with four bottles and two diaper changes per day.

However, the foundation insists on these large visits because of the money it brings in. “It’s for the cause!”

“Wow.” The team leader sitting next to me says. “That’s heartbreaking to see them just sitting there in cribs.”

I nod. These babies should be in foster care instead of cribs. But bureaucracy and paperwork are tricky in this small-town hospital.

“How can a mother leave their baby? Those can’t be called mothers. So cruel. I would never abandon my child.”

He’s wearing a social justice t-shirt after paying thousands of dollars to come “help the needy.” But his compassion doesn’t extend as far as the mothers of the children he just held.

When you see someone innocent suffer, it’s understandable to want someone to be punished for it. However, the crime of poverty is faceless and complicated to wrestle with.

Things like generational poverty and desperation are not on this team leader’s radar. So, I give some context. “I think many of these mothers are faced with impossible choices,” I suggest. “Most aren’t cruel, they just don’t want their children to go hungry.”

I share a few of the background stories of the birth mothers:

The mother who doesn’t have the nutrition to nurse her baby and can’t afford formula.

The 15-year-old mother sold again and again for her body.

The mother with mental issues.

The mother who lives with an abusive partner.

The mother who already has eight kids at home.

He nods but I don’t think he’s listening. He’s looking off somewhere else, buried in his own heroic thoughts. “If I met one of those mothers, I’d punch her in the face,” he finishes.

I think about the 13-year-old girl I saw wailing outside the children’s hospital clutching her 9-month pregnant belly. “It was probably a case of incest,” the nurses told me. Did he mean her?

I leave him on the bench to simmer in his hate.

It’s time to go to lunch.

The team talks about their travel and experiences over wine and beer. A mom is saying how she and her partner want their kids to experience different cultures while they are still young so they can understand others and realize how privileged they are.

I chat with one of the team members about traveling and we share common experiences from the States.

The Romanian hosts order platters for the table full of traditional food.

The mom who’d just shared her thoughts with the table sets down her glass of wine and quietly interrupts. “I’m sorry,” she says with a self-deprecating smile to the host, “My daughter is not going to eat that. I just know her; she’s a picky eater and it was a long flight. Can we order her something else?”

“Yes, of course.” The host answers without judgment.

No one wants a child to go hungry.