Day 20: A Baby From the Amazon

I did intake two days ago for a middle-aged woman and her young daughter, who was holding an itty bitty baby in a soft grey blanket. About two minutes into our conversation, I realized that the baby had been born five days ago, and that the girl was fifteen years old. 

They were Indigenous, from the Amazon Basin in Ecuador. They spoke softly and were quite shy, never really looking me in the eyes. 

When I gave them COVID tests, both of them cried. The baby woke up and started crying, too. After they each tested negative (thank goodness), I found the girl a baby sling and a breast pump. 

It made me think about a couple of things. First—how unimaginable it would have been for me to even think about having a child at the age of fifteen, how unprepared I would have been, and how scared. And second—how lucky I am to have an ample supply of COVID tests and resources like clean clothes and baby slings. 

I remember reading an article in July last year about how devastating the sweep of COVID had been throughout the Amazon region. The opening line: “The virus swept through the region like plagues that have traveled the river with colonizers and corporations.” 

This woman and her child had probably rarely seen or come into contact with a COVID test before entering the U.S. Being from a region with some of the highest deaths per capita in the country in the early months of the pandemic, they likely lost quite a few friends, relatives, and loved ones. 

They told me that they’d been in ICE detention for nearly a week, but had been separated. When her mother asked the officials how her very pregnant daughter was doing all they said back was, “She’s fine.” Her mother hadn’t even been there for the birth, which happened while in detention. 

I asked them why they were coming to the U.S. and the mother told me it was so that her daughter could have a better life. She left it at that, and I didn’t ask her any more questions. 

She wanted to know how old I was and if I had a boyfriend, then told me to be very careful unless I was planning on marrying anyone any time soon. She told me that with such golden hair, I shouldn’t have any problem finding a husband. 

It was 106 degrees in El Paso, and I fell asleep worrying about how the newborn would do overnight in the heat of the warehouse. I hoped we had the resources here in the shelter to care for such a tiny thing. 

I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl’s skinny arms holding up that baby’s neck, still soft cartilage. She looked down on her newborn calmly while it squirmed and cried, as if she’d given birth countless times before.