A Miracle in My Living Room

A Miracle in Our Living Room

A miracle is defined in the Miriam-Webster dictionary as being an “extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs”.  This definition resonates with me as I look on the last half decade of my life.

It was not a miracle that I met my husband, though I prayed for a wonderful man to come into my life. Our meeting was brought together by a website called Christian Café.com. My husband proposed to me two and a half years to the day from our first meeting. Six weeks later we were married in our church before friends and family. It was a glorious day.

Six months later we were delighted by the news that we were expecting. We bought little booties and gave them to both sets of parents as a way of announcing our bundle of joy. We lived in expectation of the birth of our first child.

The day of our first sonogram had arrived. We were excited to learn if the baby was a “he” or a “she”.  We received wonderful news revealing our child to be a “he”. However, the doctor also shared an area of concern. Our son’s arms and legs were substantially shorter than that of a pregnant woman in her 20th week of gestation.  I wanted to rejoice in the news of our child’s gender but instead I was grappling with this concerning news. At first, I thought, the doctor is wrong. Our child would “catch up” and grow to be within normal range.

We sought another opinion and to our surprise the news was dire.  We were told our son’s diagnosis was potentially “not compatible with life”. Further testing was recommended to include an amniocentesis.  Despite facing such a negative prognosis, we both felt a “peace that passes all understanding”.  That peace carried us through to the day of our son’s birth in August of 2005.

We did not hear a loud cry from our son as he made his entrance into the world. He was whisked away to the Neo-Natal Intensive Care Unit where he was intubated and placed on a highly specialized ventilator. We were told he would not survive birth. The first miracle; he lived.  Indeed, the patient kept living. In those first six weeks of his young life, our son, Samuel, had a tracheostomy and a gastrointestinal tube placed. We were told to count our son’s days in terms of months, not years. Each month of life was celebrated like a birthday. He was transferred to the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit where he celebrated his first Christmas surrounded by family, friends, doctors and nurses.  He was a miracle at four and a half months old.

As the New Year approached we were encouraged by Samuel’s lungs getting stronger. Through a series of ventilator trials he was slowly being weaned off the hospital grade ventilator to a ventilator made for home use. It was an arduous process. Two steps forward, one step back. Then it happened, he was breathing on the home ventilator.  By February, he was being transported by an ambulance to our home and 24 hour nursing care. August arrived and we celebrated the day we were told not to expect, Samuel’s first birthday.  We asked guests to bring balloons to this momentous event.  And so they did.  The house was full of bright and beautiful balloons of all shapes and colors. The house was also full of hope.

Today our son is eight years old. He is full of exuberance and joy with a hint of mischief. We believe God divinely intervened in our son’s life. Just in the last year, we were amazed to have Samuel weaned off the ventilator.

I’m blessed to have a real life miracle in my living room.


8 thoughts on “A Miracle in My Living Room

  1. Thanks! Please feel free to share our son’s story on the Daily Mustard. Our heart’s desire is to share hope with others. Blessings and Happy Easter!

  2. Its very emotinal to read about your son. I have a similar story about my little son. During my pregnancy at the second ultrasound, the doctor discovered that the bones were much shorter than normal on our baby. We got to see an specialist who examined the featus. A week after that we got the diagnose from the doctor. There were four possible diagnoses, each one of them were with a narrowed chest that would make it impossible to breath after birth – so our child would die immadiately or soon after birth. In two months we were waiting for our son to die. The last weeks of my pregnancy was awful. It was a horrible time and we cried during the whole caeseran section. But when our son finally arriwes he yells out loudly and can breath all by himself.
    We got the diagnose three days after birth – our son has achondroplasia. So he is a dwarf, but can breath by himself, has no braindamage and he is so lovely. I think I´ll have problems to believe doctors in the future.

  3. you’re such a strong person and so with your husband.I’ve seen his pictures at Caringbridge. He’s a picture of a happy boy. Will be praying for you and your wonderful kid, samuel

  4. Jane, thanks so much for sharing your story. It’s stories like yours that helped me get through the many months of pregnancy…not knowing the outcome. I would hear of women given one diagnosis during their pregnancy only to have a healthy child at birth. It is the hope I needed to face what may or may not come. Keep sharing your story…you never know who you’ll be giving hope to!

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