Our Little Miracle

Every child is a miracle. Ours was just an especially obvious one. After my blood pressure skyrocketed with sudden onset HELP syndrome, we watched God do one small miracle after another, preserving both my life and the life and health of our little boy.

At the hospital in Pittsburg, my blood pressure was out of control, in spite of the doctor's best efforts. When drugs couldn't fix it, and truly dire options had to be considered, God stabilized me. He preserved me through a long wait for an ambulance because no helicopter could fly in the weather and the flooding caused delays. He helped me through a bumpy ride in an ambulance over the only roads that weren't flooded at the time.

God (working through my O.B.) sent me to a doctor who was extremely skilled in dealing with serious situations. He was the absolute best person I could have seen under the circumstance. The staff in Joplin were prepared to take the baby when I was wheeled in the doors. My doctor assessed the situation and decided we could wait a couple of hours to give Brennon more time on the steroids that would help his little lungs develop.

At the time, my platelet levels were still very low, making surgery extremely dangerous. However, my kidney and liver were on the verge of shutting down, which could also kill me. The doctor referred to it as a balancing act-- waiting for Brennon's lungs to develop and my platelet levels to rise witout waiting too long and putting me in danger in other ways.

The hours went by. I was poked more times than I could count (true story). The surgery would be in a few hours. Another test: We can wait a couple more hours. Another test: Let's hold off a little longer--her platelet levels are rising. Next day: We are going to try to wait until tonight. That night. The surgery will be either during the night or at 9 in the morning.

Every time they put that surgery off, we praised God. Openly. The whole floor of medical staff knew we were Christians. That hospital room, the waiting room, and the hallways were filled with prayer. (Even some of the medical staff were praying, but that's another post). Prayers were going up all over the world. And it made a difference. A big one.

We firmly believe that we were upheld every moment of the experience by the hands of God because of the prayers of His people. Every rise in my platelet levels, every moment my organs held on, were all thanks to the prayers covering us.

The night before the surgery, they briefed us on what was going to happen. I would be put completely under for the surgery, because they would have to do major bleeding control and possibly a blood transfusion. Michael would have to stay in the waiting room. My 28 week old baby would be born, immediately intubated, and rushed away to NICU, where doctors would perform life-saving procedures, possibly including a blood transfusion.

The next morning, the anesthesiologist came in with a smile on her face. She informed me that she couldn't make any promises, but my platelet levels were high enough this morning that she was going to attempt a spinal block, which meant I might not have to go completely under. (In other words, the surgery's danger level had gone WAY down.)

In the operating room, everything went like clockwork. I was able to stay awake. Michael got to stay with me, and the surgery progressed without incident (other than my "extra wide smiley face" as the doctor put it because Brennon was sideways.)

They got Brennon out. There were faint cries, then a loud wail. Then there was a long pause. After a few seconds, a surprised nurse asked, "Daddy, do you want to come see him?" Michael said the nurses didn't know what to do with him. He was okay. No long term intubation. No ventilator. No blood transfusion. APGAR score of 4 at birth and 9 after 5 minutes. At 28 weeks! I got to see him before they took him to NICU. Except for regular little issues with having a preemie, he is still doing great. They warned us of a crash after the "honeymoon period"-- never happened. So many other possibilities-- lung failure, brain bleeds, various other things-- he has been spared thus far.

Michael got this picture in the operating room.

He has been dubbed a miracle over and over, even by the medical staff. They say things like, "He doesn't act like a 28 weeker" and "My, you have personality for your age."

We still have a long journey ahead of us, and I won't say I don't struggle with fear and disheartenment at times. I do. But I will say with another worried parent, "Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief"! (Mark 9:24.)

Thank you to all of those who have prayed for us: friends, family, and family in Christ. We are so grateful and so blessed!