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He Still Performs Miracles By Wendy There it was again�that vague cramping sensation. I had been feeling it off and on all day. I had been at the doctor just two days prior, and I really didn�t think it meant anything. Besides, I could barely feel it. Maybe I was even mistaken. Just when I was able to convince myself, I�d feel it again. Finally I decided I�d better call my husband, Mike, and see what he thought. Mike had always been my sounding board and he seemed to be a lot less fearful than I was. However, this time he surprised me. �You better call your doctor,� he said. I resisted that idea�I didn�t want to bother my doctor. �No, I don�t want to do that,� I said. �Call your doctor!� Mike insisted. And it was a good thing, too. My doctor told me to come in to labor and delivery. Once I had been examined, I was told that I had begun to dilate. Apparently the nurses could see the baby�s head through my cervix and the amniotic sac. I was likely hours away from losing him. Fortunately, my doctor noticed a local high-risk specialist in the hallway. He asked him to come in and consult with me. The specialist informed me that I needed a cerclage or I would most likely lose my child. I was only 20 weeks along, and my baby didn�t have a chance of survival if born. That night I was rushed via ambulance to a larger, level III hospital in downtown Jacksonville. I spent the night in the Trendelenberg position (head down, feet up) and by morning my baby had �fallen back in.� After diagnosing me with an incompetent cervix, I was taken into the operating room. The doctors were successful in stitching my cervix closed. This opened up an entirely new situation, however. I could no longer work. I could no longer get out of bed for anything other than bathroom visits and short showers. Fortunately for me my mother-in-law came and took care of me, making my lunches and dinners as though I were a child again. I don�t know how I would have managed without her. For the duration of my pregnancy I was afraid to breathe. Every little twinge and ache worried me. My muscles ached. I was bored out of my mind. The medicine I was on to stop contractions made my hands shake and my stomach upset. I had to force myself to eat. I began to lose weight. I drank rivers of water. Minutes seemed like hours and days felt like years. I proceeded to go into labor three separate times. Each time I was given magnesium sulfate, morphine, indocin, and terbutaline. I was permitted to have phenergan to combat the terrible nausea brought on by the magnesium. Each time my husband would go down to the chapel to pray for our baby�s safety. Fortunately, each �mag cocktail� worked�though I spent several months in the hospital, I didn�t deliver until 37.5 weeks. My son, Brandon, was born on July 3rd. He was a healthy, though small, baby. Mike and I felt blessed beyond belief. We knew we were so fortunate. Looking at his tiny face, I couldn�t imagine a happier person than I in the entire world. What�s more- I could walk again! I could get up! Life could begin again. Why we decided to get ourselves into that situation again, I�m not sure. But we did. Barely two years later my husband and I found out I was once again pregnant. This was amazing, since we had just returned from Vail. We had been snowmobiling, horseback riding, soaking in the whirlpool, tumbling down the slopes. I can�t imagine how I was able to hang onto the pregnancy through all of that, but I did. In this pregnancy, I had a planned cerclage at 11 weeks. I was frightened when I experienced strong cramping afterward, for several days. Eventually, the cramping stopped and I was allowed to be on �modified� bedrest. This meant I could do most things for myself, I just needed to take it easy. That worked until I went into labor again. I proceeded to go into labor four times in that pregnancy, each time getting the same �mag cocktail� I had come to know and despise. Every subsequent labor saw me wanting to deliver, needing to deliver, even though I knew in my heart my baby was not ready. It wasn�t that I didn�t want my baby�it was just that I didn�t think I could endure one more day of the nauseating medicine, the four walls of my hospital room, the constant shots. And I had my first son at home, whom I missed terribly. I knew he needed me. I called on the hospital Pastor, and she prayed with me and held my hand each time. God knew better than I did and I didn�t deliver my second son until 36.5 weeks. After a brief check, he was also able to go to the regular nursery. He was also very small, but healthy. We named him Austin. I know that I am fortunate. I know that I am blessed. Having had two miscarriages myself, I know the pain they cause. I don�t know why my babies were saved when others are not. I am heartsick for each and every mother who has lost her baby. But for whatever reason, He has a plan for my two boys. And I know that God still performs miracles, even today.
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