One Couple's Crusade...continued from part I
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Then, with tears rolling down my cheeks. I blurted, "The baby's mom has AIDS. He carries the antibodies. We don't know how long he's going to live, or if he's going to be okay." My father thrust James Michael out at arm's length and said. "Oh my ... God!" "This is it," I said to myself, "I blew it." But suddenly my father clutched the baby to him and tears welled up in his eyes. "Oh, my God, you poor, poor thing. If I'd only known... if I'd only known... I made them take away your pacifier. I'm so sorry, so sorry." My mother just said, "If you want this baby, that's fine with us." |
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"Please God," I prayed, "don't take him from me." |
During our week-long visit, James Michael and his grandparents became inseparable. He loved riding with Grandpa on his tractor and helping him feed his "moo cows." I'm so proud of my parents. They've always been there for me - and never more so than in that difficult time. |
Back in Phoenix, Jim and I had more difficult moments to face. It was now just before Christmas, and one day I took our busy, happy, now eight month old to a shopping mail, where he was photographed with Santa. As a special treat, he and I shared a cup of frozen custard. Early that evening, James Michael began vomiting, and his fever soared to 104 degrees. I was frantic. "Please God," I prayed, "don't take him from me." Terrified, Jim and I tried to sponge the baby off and give him medication to reduce his fever, but he kept throwing up. The nurse in me suspected the worst: This could easily be the onset of AIDS. But as a mother, I cried. "Oh, God, no!" I vowed to do anything if we could only keep our son. |
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| At midnight, as Jim and I lay frozen in bed, staring at the ceiling, I
wondered how much longer I would really have my adorable baby. Then my thoughts stopped
and I was swept by nausea. I rushed to the bathroom and threw up violently - but I didn't
care. I was never so glad to get so sick in my whole life, because I realized the baby and
I were both suffering from food poisoning, probably from the frozen custard we'd shared -
nothing more serious. Another crisis occurred when a case-worker notified us that state policy required like-race adoption placements - meaning that James Michael should go to a black family. I'm afraid I lost it at that point. I screamed like a banshee. Then I ran around the house packing. I telephoned for plane reservations for places as far away from Phoenix as James Michael and I could fly. Eventually I calmed down. Jim and I pleaded with the caseworker, then we threatened. We would, we promised. hold a press conference, go on radio and TV with our story. Thankfully, sanity soon prevailed. The state recognized that there was no line-up of families of any color waiting to adopt an AIDS baby. We could keep our son. All along we took James Michael for regular blood tests. At nine months he still tested positive for AIDS antibodies. After that the tests came back "inconclusive." In July 1988, when he, was 15 months old, he had yet another test. I expected another "inconclusive" report. Then one day my phone rang at home. It was the pediatrician's receptionist. She said, "I think I have the best news you're ever going to hear." My heart leaped as I guessed: "He's negative!" "Yes, he's negative," she answered. That meant James Michael did not have AIDS. He was a perfectly healthy baby. I burst into tears. Then I tried to reach Jim at his office, but he wasn't in. I sprinted across the street to tell my neighbor. We grabbed each other and hugged. I left messages for Jim all over town, but couldn't reach him. So, using long lengths of freezer paper from the neighborhood butcher and a two-inch marking pen, I made a huge sign to tack up on the garage door. "He's negative!" I wrote in enormous letters. Peeking through the blinds, James Michael and I waited for Jim's car to arrive. When he drove up and spotted the sign, he just slammed the car into park. I grabbed James Michael and we ran outside into Jim's arms. James Michael laughed the whole time. On October 6, 1989, at 9:53 A.M., we celebrated the adoption of our now 2 1/2- year-old son. Our best friend rode with us to the court hearing in a rented white limousine. I dressed James Michael in a tuxedo with a red satin cummerbund, a red boutonniere and bow tie, and a ruffled white shirt. At the courthouse we were greeted by swarms of photographers, reporters, and TV crews because ours was the first AIDS adoption in Arizona. That day was the happiest in my life to date. |
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Jim and his little helper man the computers at the Jenkins's' CWA Project headquarters. |
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Because of our experience with James Michael, Jim and I longed to do more for other innocent AIDS babies. And so the idea for our Children with AIDS project, which now dominates our days and nights, was born. Following the first newspaper and TV stories about us and our willingness to take an AIDS baby, mail began arriving from all over the country - from agencies trying to place abandoned babies with AIDS and from couples eager to adopt babies with the disease. We heard from social workers and doctors, from anyone with an interest in this human tragedy. It was clear that a vital cog had been missing in the AIDS network. Nobody was bringing together the "throwaway" babies and those able to give them good homes. Suddenly we knew that James Michael had brought a mission into our lives. We felt no doubt - we had been chosen to match unwanted babies with their potential parents. Jim began to log into his computer names of would-be parents and sources of babies. Word of what we were doing got around and our phone began to ring. We contacted a lay Catholic community that was trying to place babies, and we spoke with Robert DeBolt, well-known for his founding of Aid to Adoption of Special Kids near San Diego. These and other knowledgeable people shared their wisdom with us. Soon, we had in our computer the names and backgrounds of 255 people in 40 states and Canada eager to adopt innocent victims of AIDS. We were listed with the nationwide AIDS hot line, and our operation quickly outgrew the kitchen table. Sears Business Systems donated a more powerful computer. Friends provided office space, and in the last year Jim has devoted himself full-time to the project, while I support us by working five - sometimes six 12-hour nursing shifts a week in the hospital. Who took care of James Michael during all of this? Jim, the best daddy in the world, kept him at his side either at home or at the AIDS project office when I wasn't at home. People called us constantly: A pregnant woman in Illinois just discovered that her partner was bisexual. We put her in touch with a local AIDS counseling group. A family in Quebec inquired about adopting an AIDS baby. We sent them a basic information sheet and added them to our data base. We don't handle actual placements or adoptions - those are arranged by local private or public agencies. What we do is the matching-up, putting adopting, families and adoptable children together, and providing post-adoption emotional support too parents. To date, we've made some nine matches. We helped persuade a couple here in Phoenix to adopt their foster son who has AIDS symptoms. A North Carolina family received a child from Duke University. An Arizona family took a baby from St. Louis. A Texas couple is in the process of getting a baby from New York. A family in Alaska is on a waiting list for a baby. But the most exciting match is one for ourselves. Jim and I wanted to adopt another baby who was testing positive for the AIDS antibodies, and on June 21, 1990, our daughter, Arlis (named after my mother), entered our lives. She was, we felt sure, fated to be our daughter because she was born on October 6, 1989, the very day Jim and I were legally adopting James Michael.
Arlis is beautiful, a real heartbreaker. Jim and I fell in love with her instantly. James Michael wasn't so sure at first - in the beginning there was some old-fashioned sibling rivalry on his part. One day I remember he dumped a load of leaves and dirt from the yard all over her pretty head. But he quickly adjusted to not being an only child and now is, if anything, overprotective of his sister. As with James Michael, Jim and I are waiting it out, hoping and praying that Arlis, too, does not develop AIDS, but prepared for any eventuality. People have asked us how we voluntarily take on this kind of situation. I always reply by asking the questioner, "How big is your heart?" And then I say - from my heart, "You can't be afraid to love." Joy and Jim Jenkins can be reached at Children with AIDS Project |
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We learned that Arlis's mother and father both have AIDS and are
schizophrenic. But we could hardly wait to get our hands on her. She was in Washington,
D.C., at the Lutheran Social Service Center, and Jim, James Michael, and I flew there to
bring her home. 
