Twenty two weeks into my pregnancy I received that dreaded call. After two normal pregnancies and deliveries, my husband and I suffered two pregnancy losses. My third son, Samuel stopped growing at 22 weeks and one year later I miscarried twins at 12 weeks. This was my fifth pregnancy and I was being monitored closely. I was frequently being screened, my blood was drawn, and the doctor kept me at bed rest as much as possible. Nevertheless, that hot July afternoon turned our world upside down, again.
The doctor’s voice on the other end of line sounded strange. By this time we had grown extremely close and he was very attentive to us, as a couple, because of all we had already been through. I could tell his voice was strained and I braced myself for the news. The screening had resulted in devastating news. The baby tested positive for spina bifida, hydrocephalus, and down syndrome. There was no need to run the tests again, he said, he had already made an appointment for me with a perinatal specialist. I needed to register at the center as soon as possible, there was no time to waste, he urged. He was truly anguished, but he would not be seeing me anymore. I needed special care and attention. As soon as I hung I up the phone, I called my husband at work. It was impossible to wrap our heads around the situation. We were shocked! Minutes after the phone call, our Pastor showed up at my house with friend from our church. At that moment we declared the enemy defeated. Our church family went into prayer for us.
Soon, I was sitting in front of a nurse at the Perinatal center. They interviewed me about my health, family history of diseases, and birth defects. I was being prepared for the arduous tests that were about to occur. It would be more than an hour in the ultrasound room. They attempted to prepare me for what I was about to see. The baby, they said, may have severe deformities, and they would be looking at it on a large color screen on the wall. The nurse read the list of specifics she was going to be looking at during the screening.
We would start by measuring the neck, I was told. Perhaps this was the least shocking part of all, I thought. As I watched the images on the screen, she explained that babies with down syndrome had a thick neck, she talked softly but I really was not even listening. All I could think about was my baby on the screen. My mind was racing with thoughts of how we were going to cope with the possibility of losing another baby, I was told that survival rate after birth, was slim, if it made it to a full 40 weeks. Suddenly, she paused the ultrasound machine and told us she needed to get another doctor to come look at the screen. Something was not right. My heart raced wildly. Was the baby already dead? What could be worse? Minutes later a second specialist stepped in and began to move the ultrasound wand slowly over my belly. I couldn’t decipher a thing on the screen. I wanted to scream. They tried to keep me calm by explaining they were simply checking the baby’s heart. Moments later, they paused the machine and stared at me. “What are you doing here?” Dr. #2 asked. “There is nothing wrong with this baby. Yes, I read the screenings and test results, your history, and all, but what we are seeing on the screen doesn’t make sense. Your baby is fine! Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” she asked, looking at my husband. “Dad, you are going to have to paint the room pink, because this baby is a girl!” laughed Dr. #2. The doctor continued to show us our PERFECT baby girl on the huge screen in full color. We had just witnessed a miracle. The doctors were also rejoicing and laughing with us. Tears ran down my face, I knew GOD had set this up, another story for HIS glory. Even the doctors and nurses were witnesses to the God winds that changed the atmosphere in that room instantly. Yes, I was frightened, confused, and trembling, but GOD showed me, once again, that HE is in full control.
“For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb. I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Wonderful are Your works, And my soul knows it very well.…” Psalm 139:13
It was there at the moment, I felt God dancing among us. He took the weapon aimed at our generations and pulverized it. It’s the one thing God loves to do, HE is at work when HE baffles doctors, confuses scientific explanations, cancels funeral plans, and breathes life back into our dark and deep valleys.
My daughter’s first cries reached heaven above. I am certain the angels rejoiced with us knowing that Jesus had appointed that moment to once again prove that the enemy is beneath our feet. Every time I see my daughter I know Christ is mighty and powerful to annul all agenda from hell.
In HIS name there is power and by HIS stripe we are healed. Wonderful, wonderful are your marvelous works!
She is a story for HIS glory. God always has the last word.
Osen de Leon