Covenant News
Miracle Baby, Miracle Church, Miracle God
DURHAM, NC (March 20, 2001) -Twenty-five months ago, Roberto Gonzalez was a mechanic in Mexico. He and his wife, Adriana, had a sick child on their hands, not an unusual occurrence for parents of a four-month-old.
The baby boy didn't have any ordinary illness, however. And the past two years have been anything but typical for the Gonzalez family since finding out their baby has Severe Combined Immune Deficiency (SCID), an illness affecting one's immune system.
Roberto "Betito" Gonzalez (accompanying photo) was born November 4, 1998, in Sabinas, Mexico, and became ill a few months later. His parents brought him to Monterrey, Mexico, for treatment in March 1999. Doctors discovered Betito has SCID, a rare disease that affects one in every 500,000 births. Attending physician Nadina Rubio told the family that treating the disease was beyond the
capability of the Mexican medical system.
Because the family had purchased medical insurance (a rarity in Mexico), the Gonzalez family was able to receive care for Betito at Duke Children's Hospital in Durham, home to one of the leading SCID research facilities. Adriana and Roberto have lived in their son's hospital room since the spring of 1999, praying for a miracle.
The fact that Betito is still alive is a miracle in itself, considering the failures of several bone marrow transplants to restore a sufficient supply of lymphocyte - or "T" cells - considered the controlling agents of the immune system. Most SCID patients die before they are a year old, if a suitable bone marrow donor is not found quickly.
Although immediate family members live more than 1,500 miles away, God has provided a miraculous support system for Adriana and Roberto in Redeemer Covenant Church in Cary, North Carolina. The congregation has provided the Gonzalez family medical advice, food, transportation and lessons in sign language since their arrival in the United States.
"I've been so amazed at how God has been working in all of this," says parishioner Leatta Welch. "It has to be a God thing. And everyone who has helped has had their own special gift they could offer. It's like a splash in the middle of a pond. It just ripples everywhere."
Shortly after the Gonzalez family arrived in North Carolina, Redeemer Covenant Church Pastor Tom Rousseau received a phone call from John Kerl, a Covenant missionary serving in Monterrey. Kerl learned of the illness through Betito's great aunt, Rosadalia Garcia de Cavazos, who is Kerl's neighbor. He called Redeemer Covenant, which is not far from the Duke facility, hoping there might be Spanish-speaking members at Redeemer who could communicate with the family.
Welch responded to an email request the pastor sent to members, stating she could translate a conversation. Listening to the family's story over dinner at a local restaurant convinced the pastor that the church could be of assistance.
"I'm sitting with this couple at 1 a.m. at a diner in Durham eating eggs and grits," Rousseau recalled, "listening to this conversation in Spanish. I have no idea what they're saying. And the first thing that came into my mind was, well Lord, what have you gotten us into now?"
Rousseau shared the plight of the Gonzalez family with his members. The parents had moved into the hospital room with Betito, bringing only a small supply of clothes and little money. The church responded, providing the family with a variety of items to help them feel more at home at Duke. They also provided transportation so that family members could run errands and attend church (one parent attends church each Sunday while the other stays with Betito).
"Redeemer has not gone searching for ministry," Rousseau says. "God keeps bringing the opportunities to people. The important thing is to stay alert for the opportunities to deal with what's in front of us. And we've had lots of opportunities to impact lives right in our own back yard. God put these people in our laps and the Body of Christ stepped up to the plate."
As Betito began treatments at Duke, Welch continued to translate for the family as they shared their story with others at Redeemer Covenant. After a short time, Welch had gotten so close to the extended family that she spent Thanksgiving 1999 in Sabinas with Adriana's mother, Blanca Garcia. She jokes that she has become the family's "mamma gringa," giving motherly advice when Adriana's mother isn't around.
Others at Redeemer Covenant offered assistance as well. Occupational therapist Karen Crowell taught Betito and the family sign language to help them communicate (Betito was struggling to speak because his body was so weakened by the SCID treatments). The sign language served as a bridge until he began to talk.
When a Duke Medical Center social worker told Rousseau that Roberto was feeling displaced and lonely, Rousseau introduced Roberto to other men in the church. Since then, Roberto has found fellowship via organized outings in the area and a weekend trip to Atlanta.
Even the younger people at Redeemer minister to the family. Kids organized a Christmas party and sent Betito a number of presents. Many children come to play with Betito. One child was so taken with the boy that she went home and started learning Spanish to better communicate with him.
The added attention has taken some of the pressure off the Gonzalez parents, who might have been the only people who could have been around Betito had he been diagnosed with SCID two decades ago. In earlier days, SCID patients were confined to a sterile bubble unit - those outside of the immediate family weren't allowed to come near. Standards have relaxed a bit, however.
Betito resides in an ultra-sterile clean research wing of the medical center. With the aid of gowns and masks, he can be with others who are illness-free. Because his unit is relatively traffic-free during the evenings, he occasionally can be taken out of his room, accompanied by a nurse.
Perhaps the biggest help to the family has been Janet Hobble, a parishioner who has served as a pediatric nurse at Duke for 10 years and has worked on Betito's floor in recent months. Besides the medical care Hobble provides, her gentle spirit has touched both the parents and the child. The trust that has developed between the nurse and the family has allowed Adriana and Roberto to venture away from their son for an occasional dinner alone or a few hours of extra sleep.
"They are very protective - they don't leave him a lot and I totally understand that," Hobble said. "But if I'm there, they have the opportunity to leave for a while. We've been able to connect both medically and spiritually. Normally, I would not cross that line with a family I worked with, but this is a different situation since I met them at church," she continued. "For some reason, God's given me the ability to communicate with them pretty well. We just have a real good rapport."
The manner in which God has worked in the lives of Betito and his family has had a significant impact on family members, beginning with Adriana (pictured with Betito), who accepted Jesus Christ as her savior. She shared God's faithfulness to her family during a Redeemer Covenant worship service.
"My life has changed and it went down a totally different path, a totally different direction than what it was going to be," she said. "I know now that it was God who changed it. And I feel special to have been chosen to be in the situation I have been in. I have confidence that God is with me and I know that without God, I couldn't have survived this experience."
The parents are understandably frustrated with the uncertainty of their child's future. "Of course, there are days that are really dark, really difficult," says Adriana. "It's very, very hard because we're trying to appease the situation. I ask myself, 'What am I going to do to keep him (Betito) upbeat?' Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed, like I can't do it anymore."
But Adriana says that being with Betito lifts her spirits. In their efforts to give him joy, they become more joyous. In climbing the mountain of medical challenges, God has provided numerous mountaintop experiences through the love of a church and the life of Betito.
"It's very difficult to be with my son knowing I can't do anything more than take care of him, love him, to make sure that he's never alone," Roberto says. "It's a God thing. I just try to do the best I can. Fortunately, we're together (Adriana and I). We're savoring every moment that we're with him. We have the satisfaction of being with him and we have an opportunity to be together until the end."
Editor's note: For additional stories that explore facets of the Gonzalez story in greater detail, visit the links below:
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