Trust Life Today story, as told by my friend Sally:
Preterm labor shouldn’t have been a total surprise, as I had already had one child. But I can honestly say that I didn’t realize I was in labor until about 15 minutes before I gave birth. How in the world did I not recognize labor? My only explanation is that I was induced with my firstborn. It is my experience that childbirth induced, resembles NOTHING like natural childbirth. Add to that? I was only 34 weeks pregnant. Add to THAT? I had just left my obstetrician’s office a few hours prior.
I did, however, know that something was ‘wrong.’ My very first pregnancy, I was 14 weeks along before we lost it. After we had our first child, we lost another; this time it was at six weeks. I was accustomed to heartache and loss. My first thought was that I was going to lose yet another child. I feared that something was going terribly wrong.
When we got to the hospital we weren’t taken very seriously. I’m sure maternity wards are filled with women who think they’re in labor. That wasn’t me, I just wanted someone to stop the pain.
I was admitted and put in a room. I will never forget the ONE nurse who checked on me. She was walking out of the room, stopped, and looked back at me. It felt like she looked through me…..she had a look of concern. She came to physically check me and said, “Hon, you are about to have a baby in a matter of minutes. Whatever you do, do NOT push!” I am so grateful for that woman.
I ended up delivering fully clothed. I was moved from a gurney to the delivery bed when our teeny son arrived. There was JUST enough time for a doctor to assist. We had only been on the hospital property for 35 minutes.
But all was not quite well. My records couldn’t be found (as they were still on my doctor’s desk awaiting charting). I was being treated for a lack of platelets, which is a clotting factor. This was news to the staff; I just sorta dropped that information on them. What had just moments before been a relatively calm and lighthearted room, quickly became a lively, tension filled room. Blood was ordered, neonatologists were called. Our son was whisked away for tests to be run (in case my blood disease had transmitted to him).
And here is where the greatest peace I have ever known took over. Nurses kept trying to assure me not to worry about where my son was. I didn’t need assurance. Updates on his and my blood work were delivered with great relief. But I was unmoved, both before and after the news was delivered. We quickly called friends and family to share our news. I was so excited, but the grandparents were tentative. I couldn’t figure out why. I had such faith that everything was fine. We stayed in the hospital for 10 days while our 3 lb. 8 oz. baby slowly added a pound plus, in order to have enough fat to maintain body temperature. Friends would come to visit and cry and pray over his little incubated body. Not me! I just smiled. Prayers were offered, but truly? – – I felt the need to comfort our visitors as they were so concerned about our baby boy.
It’s unexplainable really. I look back at pictures and think: he appeared so small and helpless, defenseless and tiny. I really question how I could have possibly not worried about his health or well being. But I knew he would be fine. I was able to trust that the toil I had endured already was all in preparation for that moment in life.
It’s been 12 years since then. That boy is thriving. He is, not surprisingly, a fighter. He is confident and loved by many.
I like to think that I am a woman of tremendous faith. But the tricky thing about faith? You can’t really prepare for a battle right in the middle of a war….and you can’t GET faith in the middle of a crisis. Any efforts I had ever made to build my faith strength paid off in that series of events.
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“When you have come to the edge of all light that you know, and are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown, Faith is knowing one of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly.” ~ Patrick Overton