You fuel our strength
Our story starts with a little boy named Sisoroth*, he was born a little over a year ago. His mother is an orphan, very young. His dad left when he was still in her womb. When he was born, Sisoroth* had a very small cranium. It instantly looked suspicious to our staff, and we sent him to see doctors to check that his development was going well.
The specialists we sent his mother to were not very helpful. She came back saying that one of them even told her that he had no brain. Another one said that he was “fine”.
But we never gave up.
We finally called a young Canadian doctor who was practicing in Phnom Penh for a year, and she was able to give us the contact of a doctor who had access to an MRI machine.
We finally got to get a full diagnosis, so we could support him and his mum. He has a microcephaly. Signs and symptoms of microcephaly may include a smaller than normal head circumference that usually remains smaller than normal as the child grows, delayed motor and speech functions, mental retardation, balance and coordination problems, and other brain-related or neurological problems; There is no treatment to change the head size. Even though there is no cure, we researched his disability and knew that Sisoroth* needs regular physiotherapy and special care in order to develop his motor skills.
While at the hospital, the chief doctor came to us, and asked for our support. He had been trying to find families and placements for 20 children that were abandoned on the premises. All of them presented disabilities ranging from mental impairment to severe physical handicaps. Some had been living there for eight years, with no possibility of going outside. Years restricted to one small room without proper stimulation. It was heartbreaking.
We didn’t know how we could help at first. Our primary mission is to support women during a crisis pregnancy, and even though we partner with organisations that find permanent foster families, finding placement for 20 children seemed like an impossible task.
But when we visited the room the children were in, we knew we couldn’t just go home and forget their little faces. With no one to call “mama," with little love, and certainly not the care they needed.
Our team started talking to all of our partners. We spent hours on the phone, we met other NGOs, we spread the word.
Once again, we persisted.
The little ones were filling up our dreams, our nights and we believed that we were sent to help.