Sick is just not the same in Ethiopia

We just got back from taking Marta to the doctor because Marta and Joseph are convinced that she has malaria or yellow fever. We knew that it was the same "crud" that everyone else has had in the past to weeks, but to put her at ease we took her in. When Marta was throwing up this morning I reassured her that Danny had been sick like that too. She said, "No Mom. This no the same. This very very bad." If you could have seen her face you would know what terror looks like, and maybe defeat. Joseph told Ben about all the kids in his neighborhood that die from malaria. In the newspaper today it said that every 30 seconds a child dies from malaria. Joseph told Ben all about the time he got it when he was 7 and his mom RAN to the hospital while carrying him so that he could get the medecine. He remembers how sick he was.

When I pause too long, and begin to think what it means to be a mom in Ethiopia - I have to stop. A mom in Ethiopia doesn't worry about the broken backpack zipper, the cupcakes for lunch or making sure the car gets cleaned before the next field trip. A mom in Ethiopia worries about being strong enough to run to the hospital. A mom in Ethiopia hopes she has the money for the hospital. I couldn't survive as a mom in Ethiopia.