Happy Endings

Not to be dreary... really. There is a happy ending.

I just got to talking with a friend last night over a story we had read about a family that went through an incredible trial. I mean incredible in the utmost way. Did you know "incredible" can mean "hard to believe" and "seemingly impossible"? That is my context.

This family had gone through the heart-wrenching process of IVF multiple times, battling through fail after fail. I've only seen 2nd hand how painful IVF failures can be through family and a close friend and I know that to say it's devastating is an understatement. This family finally had a successful attempt and became pregnant. Not only were they finally pregnant, but the pregnancy was smooth and they enjoyed every minute of it. The months passed and they decorated a beautiful nursery for their new baby boy. The woman was past her due-date so they scheduled an induction and everything was going according the plan. When a nurse broke her water, she noticed something was not right and so they took her in for an emergency c-section. The Dr. delivered the baby in 6 minutes and began cpr immediately. He needed to be air-lifted to a different hospital and the mother, just minutes after going into recovery from her c-section asked to see him for the first time before they left. She GOT UP OUT OF BED AND WALKED to the incubator, opened it up and caressed his head before they whisked him off. The nurses then had to PUT her back into the bed because she was completely numb and at that point, unable to walk. The husband described it as a "walking on water" moment because no one, just coming out of surgery with a spinal tap should be able to walk. The Dr. and nurses were speechless but even they understood the power of the mother-baby relationship. Is there anything a mother wouldn't do for her baby? Is there any miracle that is impossible when it comes to a mother needing to touch her baby for the first and last time? There is no miracle impossible. There is nothing that will stand in her way...

The baby and the father went on to the transfer hospital, the mother demanding he stay by the babies side. Imagine the deep plea in her eyes as she told her husband to GO. Imagine his torn heart as he left his ailing wife, proceeding onward to his ailing son. I think of my own husband and how strong he has had to be for us emotionally in years past and I can't help but wonder... would that break him? Would that break any man? These people are believers and knew they had to put their trust in God in the MOMENT. Not after the fact when the dust had settled, but right there and then when chaos was all around them and there wasn't a moment to pause, the mother cried out in prayer for her son. Would I have cried out in prayer, or just cried out? What faith she had. What a testimony to their trust in the Lord that in the middle of the biggest storm they would ever face, she cried out in prayer. It was not her last resort. It was her first thought. Would it be mine?

The baby was air-lifted and the husband was driven by a pastor friend. There was no room in the helicopter for the husband/father. When they arrived, the nurses informed him that the baby had crashed 3 times in the air and currently in the NICU they were working again to save his life. The husband was taken to the NICU where the Dr. informed him that because of the rare situation that happened just before delivery, the baby had suffered a traumatic blood loss and would not be saved. They continued to try and would have success for minutes at a time. The staff informed the father to hold the baby close to him in his final moments. He called his wife, and he also called the pastor and put them both on speaker phone so that they were all "present" in the babies final moments. The pastor recited verses and within minutes the angels had come to take their precious baby home, as he lay in the warmth of his earthly father's arms....

Something very rare had happened to the placenta. Apparently it's something the Dr's would read about in medical books but probably never experience in their practice.

How do you continue to live and embrace life after experiencing a tragedy so vivid, so unbelievably breath-taking? The mother was transferred as soon as she was able to the hospital where her baby boy was. They proceeded with the funeral... with life... with coping. Eventually what they proceeded with was healing. I'm not sure how this mom found it within her to get out of bed each day. I'm not sure how this couple survived this tragedy. The husband said to his wife on the phone, minutes after the baby had passed, "Please don't leave me". I think of the significance of that statement and what it implies. "Don't leave me physically. Don't leave me emotionally. Don't leave me alone in this." She didn't. God didn't. I guess the reason I'm not sure how they made it another step after this tragedy is because they aren't sure either. What they chose to accept and what they chose to be their healing is this simple truth: there are some God heals on earth, there are some God heals in Heaven. It's not that simple of course when it's YOU that needs to heal, but it's their faith that enabled them to not curl up, unable to face life. When people say that faith can move mountains... imagine crossing the mountain of losing a child. They did. They have a beautiful baby boy now and are pregnant again. I told you there was a happy ending. There are even days they make it through without shedding a tear. Only God can heal the broken-hearted and I haven't read of a more incredible present-day testimony of this in quite some time. I'm not crazy for reading stories like this while I'm pregnant :) Really, I'm not. It doesn't scare me or make me think, "What if that happens to me!?" Instead, it gives me so much hope. I read about a family like that who faced the unspeakable and I know there is hope for everyone. I'm reassured that God gives hope to the hopeless. Thinking back on my experiences with my first pregnancy and some of the fear that I faced... I had to remind myself on a daily basis that fear is NOT from the Lord. There was an ultrasound near the end where things were not looking good. I had just been released from a 5 day stay in the hospital where we though for sure we'd be coming home with a baby, but did not. I was told at that ultrasound, it would be touch and go and that they weren't happy with the way my blood pressure was restricting blood flow in the umbilical chord. I was sent home on complete bedrest. On my way out, alone (chris at work 30 minutes away saving every possible vacation hour for after delivery), I left the high risk dept and walked through the lobby of the hospital stopping in the gift shop. I wasn't sure what I was doing, I just felt unsettled in my heart. I walked around aimlessly and picked up a little cross necklace that was made from some sort of porcelain and painted. On the back it simply stated, "protect me". I paid for it and put it on. When I got into my car, I prayed that God would protect my body, protect my baby, and protect my heart. I knew He would. I didn't wear that necklace as some sort of rosary... I don't believe in that. But I wore it because in the moment that I bought it, the words on that cross were the truest words of my heart. The words I couldn't find but desperately wanted to say. It was less than a week later, at 33 weeks pregnant that I went back for another ultrasound and was told that Landon needed to be delivered because he wasn't getting his blood or oxygen supply. As a first time mom, you never want to hear anything isn't "perfect". You never want to hear that your baby is in danger, that you are in danger. I think of the minor hospital visits I had prior to that day, when Landon didn't move and wasn't responsive and how major that had seemed. I spent my days in my pregnancy with a watch in my hand, timing my babies movements and making sure there 10 in an hour. I woke up each morning making fists to see if my hands were swollen, indicating my blood pressure was spiking way up. I put the cuff on my arm 3 times a day and had to call in when it reached above 150/90 which it always did. Then I had to go into the Dr. office, only to be sent over to the hospital, to have my medication increased, finally to 6 pills a day- the maximum. I looked at women with seemingly carefree pregnancies and sometimes, would selfishly think, "I wish I could feel carefree." I didn't know what it felt like to not be worrying about the baby inside my belly. It's funny to me, I never worried about my own health, though it was probably at greater risk than Landon's. When the storm had passed and Landon was born and we were settled into a routine in the NICU, I asked Chris why he never seemed upset or worried about Landon and he said it wasn't that he wasn't fearful for Landon, but that he was more fearful for me. It didn't sink in for me until that moment, that during the delivery and aftermath, my husband was privately battling the fear of losing his wife. He couldn't show me that fear, because he was strong for me. What a revelation that was for me. The things God uses to teach us what it means to love... wow. I'll never trade a second, a breath, a prayer, a tear. I hope and pray that I would still be able to say that even if something did go traumatically wrong but I don't know for sure. All I know for sure is that through it all, I'll never walk alone. I hope the story of that family inspires you to re-find your faith, re-kindle your flame and remember that the God who made the universe, is holding your hand.