Post by Cindy on May 15, 2015 6:10:54 GMT -5
I have another miracle to share from when one of my children was being born.:
When I went into labor with my 4th baby, he was presenting as a footling breach--in other words coming out feet first; and I began hemorrhaging badly. I knew I was dying because I heard the doctor ask my husband who he should try to save if he could save one of us, me or the baby. I was still in the labor room at that time and just as the doctor asked my husband that, I heard another doctor telling him to get out of the way that he was taking over my case. My doctor was on vacation so I had gotten the doctor on call when I went into hard labor.
He wheeled me into a surgical suite and had the nurses running to set everything up that he needed. I remember him telling the nurses to give me an injection of demerol for pain, and him telling me that even with the medication that it was going to hurt a lot. I remember the nurse questioning him about the amount of demerol he'd ordered as I guess it was a lot. He told her that if this was going to be my last hour, that he didn't want me in pain for it. Even that didn't bother me though. I just thought he was being very considerate. For some reason, I wasn't scared. I felt safe and knew everything was going to be alright. He had taken me into an operating room instead of a delivery room and having all that demerol in me, I guess I was acting kind of goofy, but he didn't seem to care. I remember seeing all the surgical instruments set up and being fascinated by them. In between contractions, I kept reaching out and picking them up, one by one to ask what they were. The nurses would have a fit and come running to take them away and then replace them with sterile ones. He just laughed and told me what each one was for. They kept telling me that I had to stop doing that or they wouldn't have any to use when they needed them and I kept agreeing, but then I'd forget and do it again, because of the drugs. They finally had to restrain my hands so I'd stop. During all that time, even though I was calm and looking at everything, the doctor was working feverishly on me, and yet still answering pleasantly and with a smile. He was amazing! Christopher was finally born about an hour later. Obviously I didn't die and neither did my son Christopher, but it was a close call.
Now to explain what God had to do with this. My doc had gone on vacation so he wasn't there for me. The doctor that took over was a specialist for exactly the kind of delivery I was having. He was in our state and at that hospital just for that week to teach the other doctors how to handle the kind of birth I was presenting. Not only that, but the only reason he happened to come into the labor and delivery area that night was to say goodbye to those who were on duty in the labor and delivery area, as he was on his way to the airport to leave for home! When he came in, he heard all the commotion and heard what the young doctor was asking my husband and immediately took over realizing this was his exact specialty! He missed his flight to deliver my baby!
When my doctor got back from vacation the next day he brought me flowers and told me that I was very very lucky that he hadn't been there the night before. I thought that was pretty odd so I asked him what he meant. He then told me about the doctor who had helped me saying he was the very best in the world at handling cases like mine and had been there only to teach other doctors how to deal with that kind of delivery. He said he'd just finished being briefed by that doctor about me and there was no doubt in his mind that I would have died if he'd been there instead or any other doctor had done the delivery except for that expert!
Talk about divine intervention! Thank you Lord!
When I went into labor with my 4th baby, he was presenting as a footling breach--in other words coming out feet first; and I began hemorrhaging badly. I knew I was dying because I heard the doctor ask my husband who he should try to save if he could save one of us, me or the baby. I was still in the labor room at that time and just as the doctor asked my husband that, I heard another doctor telling him to get out of the way that he was taking over my case. My doctor was on vacation so I had gotten the doctor on call when I went into hard labor.
He wheeled me into a surgical suite and had the nurses running to set everything up that he needed. I remember him telling the nurses to give me an injection of demerol for pain, and him telling me that even with the medication that it was going to hurt a lot. I remember the nurse questioning him about the amount of demerol he'd ordered as I guess it was a lot. He told her that if this was going to be my last hour, that he didn't want me in pain for it. Even that didn't bother me though. I just thought he was being very considerate. For some reason, I wasn't scared. I felt safe and knew everything was going to be alright. He had taken me into an operating room instead of a delivery room and having all that demerol in me, I guess I was acting kind of goofy, but he didn't seem to care. I remember seeing all the surgical instruments set up and being fascinated by them. In between contractions, I kept reaching out and picking them up, one by one to ask what they were. The nurses would have a fit and come running to take them away and then replace them with sterile ones. He just laughed and told me what each one was for. They kept telling me that I had to stop doing that or they wouldn't have any to use when they needed them and I kept agreeing, but then I'd forget and do it again, because of the drugs. They finally had to restrain my hands so I'd stop. During all that time, even though I was calm and looking at everything, the doctor was working feverishly on me, and yet still answering pleasantly and with a smile. He was amazing! Christopher was finally born about an hour later. Obviously I didn't die and neither did my son Christopher, but it was a close call.
Now to explain what God had to do with this. My doc had gone on vacation so he wasn't there for me. The doctor that took over was a specialist for exactly the kind of delivery I was having. He was in our state and at that hospital just for that week to teach the other doctors how to handle the kind of birth I was presenting. Not only that, but the only reason he happened to come into the labor and delivery area that night was to say goodbye to those who were on duty in the labor and delivery area, as he was on his way to the airport to leave for home! When he came in, he heard all the commotion and heard what the young doctor was asking my husband and immediately took over realizing this was his exact specialty! He missed his flight to deliver my baby!
When my doctor got back from vacation the next day he brought me flowers and told me that I was very very lucky that he hadn't been there the night before. I thought that was pretty odd so I asked him what he meant. He then told me about the doctor who had helped me saying he was the very best in the world at handling cases like mine and had been there only to teach other doctors how to deal with that kind of delivery. He said he'd just finished being briefed by that doctor about me and there was no doubt in his mind that I would have died if he'd been there instead or any other doctor had done the delivery except for that expert!
Talk about divine intervention! Thank you Lord!
!!
