Moise's infection finally reached his lungs this weekend while I was in Carrefour at my close friend Nikki's wedding. His grandmother called me on Saturday morning because they needed a particularly strong antibiotic and she couldn't find it in the local pharmacies. It was awful not being able to do anything to help, but wonderful Dorothy offered to drive to a few hospitals and check at their pharmacies. They found the drug by noon but it was too late. Moise got worse and worse and he finally passed away at 11 o'clock Saturday evening.
I didn't want him to die. I got very attached to that little baby in the week that I was taking care of him and I really wanted us to win the fight for his sake and for the sake of his amazing foster family. Why? Why did that precious boy not make it? God and I need to talk.