Why I believe in God…

Part 1:

 

After my sister was born, my dad got a vasectomy. He didn’t really discuss it with my mother, just went out and did it. Which I think upset her. She didn’t feel “done” yet. But that was that. Several years later, my sister decided she wanted a baby sister. She kept asking my parents, talking about having a baby sister, and praying at bedtime for God to give her a baby sister. My parents at the time were fostering kids, and thought maybe they would adopt. It seemed like the obvious choice if they wanted another. So they started to pray about it.

My mom started experiencing pain in her side. They went in and discovered a cyst so large it was pulling her ovary down, causing pain. Surgery would be required, but they first wanted to take a pregnancy test. If they didn’t and she was pregnant, the surgery could abort the baby. My parents laughed “Oh, we’re not pregnant”. My mom was almost 40. My dad’s vasectomy had happened NINE years prior. They felt pretty certain…but did the test anyway.

My mom was pregnant with me. The surgery would wait. Her doctor talked to her about Down’s syndrome. About abortion because of her age. My mom found a new doctor, and planned for a gentle birth MUCH different than her previous three.

My birth was the first time my mom was not induced. 2 weeks after my due date had come and past, my mom was bending over to put kids to bed and felt a “pop” inside. It was then that she started bleeding. Her placenta started to tear away from the uterus. When this happens the baby is being deprived of oxygen and nutrients. This can cause later neurological problems in the baby, or death (20–40% depending how badly it was separated.) But that’s not all, the mom can lose so much blood she goes in to shock, and if it’s not treated (by cesarean, and sometimes hysterectomy) she too could die.

My dad was at work. My grandmother who was staying there to help out started to freak out, and my mother had to drive herself to the hospital which is a good 50 minute drive away. Incidentally, she hit a deer on the way there (which had my grandmother been driving, she most likely would have swerved and wrecked the car), but my mom plowed right through it and kept driving.

Because she had to drive herself, forced to sit up, this just happened to create a tampanode (or so the doctor believes). Because when she got to the hospital, her bleeding had stopped until she laid back down. They had thought, maybe they could proceed with a vaginal delivery. Nope, it gushed right back out again.

They rushed her back for emergency surgery, putting her under general anesthesia (no time for a spinal). When they opened her up, they found that the placenta was torn from the uterus by 45%.

Yet I was alive. She was alive. She had lost a severe amount of blood. She still had her uterus. The doctor wanted to wait to see how she would do before giving a blood transfusion. During this time (the 80’s), AIDS was on the scene and he didn’t trust the blood supply. She should have had a blood transfusion. She was weak, but she pulled through.

My mother didn’t meet me until 8 hours later.

I believe that despite my dad’s choices, God had a plan for me to be born. I believe that God protected my mother, and I in what could have been a VERY dangerous, life threatening situation.

This is just one reason, why I have faith in God.