The Story of Michael And How He Died To Show Me the Way...
Apr 3, 2017 7:15:00 GMT -5
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Post by Daniel on Apr 3, 2017 7:15:00 GMT -5
The Story of Michael And How He Died To Show Me the Way To Heaven
By Geri Ungurean
March 28, 2017
Michael was my first child. We were so excited to meet this little guy. We had the nursery all prepared and decorated. As every expectant mom probably does, I would hold up the little undershirts and onesies. I could hardly wait for Michael to arrive.
We did the Lamaze classes. I was getting so close to the due date, but I began to worry. I had not felt Michael kick in a couple of days. I would even poke my tummy to try to make him move – nothing. I had an appointment with my obstetrician the next day. I drove myself. The doctor I had chosen did not come recommended by anyone in my family. I can’t even remember how I found him.
I was not yet a Christian. I went for my appointment. This doctor never used the doppler which I had heard so much about. He used a regular stethoscope. After listening for a while, he told the nurse “Fetal heart beat is fine.”
At that point I told the doctor that I had not felt movement for a few days. He opened a drawer and pulled out another stethoscope. I imagined that it was more powerful. He listened and moved the stethoscope around. And then he said the words I will never forget.
He told me that there was a chance that the baby was gone. But he said to come back in a week and he would confirm this. I was devastated. I remember driving home and hardly being able to see because of the tears pouring down my face. When I got home, I called my mother. She had one of my sisters take me to her obstetrician. He used the doppler. Then he told my sister that he wanted to meet with us in his office.
He told me that my baby was gone. I can’t even put into words how I felt. I could hardly move or breathe. He said that my body would soon attempt to pass the child and I would go into a type of labor. He said to go home and wait for this to happen.
That evening, I felt a tightening in my back and I knew that my body was trying to pass Michael. We called the doctor and he said that he would meet us at the hospital.
The doctor examined me and he told me that he wanted me to pass Michael naturally. He did not want to do a C-Section. They put me in a room and put in an IV. He told me that they were injecting pitocin which hopefully would make me dilate.
This went on for about 5 days. At night they put me in a ward away from mothers and their babies. In the morning they would wheel me down to that room and hook me up to give me more pitocin. It was obviously not working.
The realization that my baby was really dead
I remember lying in bed, looking at my huge stomach, realizing that my baby was deceased. I was numb. When I cried I thought that I’d never stop. Between the sobs, I would talk to God. I was not yet a believer but I always knew that God was real. I asked God if this happened to punish me for bad things I had done. It just felt good to talk to Him. I was never angry at God -I was just looking for answers.
The Visit
That night a friend came to visit me from work. She had become a Christian a few months before. The girls at work laughed behind her back because they knew the things that Elaina had done before she became a believer in Jesus. Elaina brought me a Bible. I had never had a Bible which included the New Testament. After our visit I put the Bible in my suitcase, thinking that I would never need it.
The breakdown
Suddenly I was filled with sorrow and rage. I pushed the button for a nurse. When she came in, I took a glass of water and hurled it against the wall. I told the nurse that I was at the end of my rope and I asked her to call my doctor and tell him that I wanted a C-Section the next day. I told her that if he said no, I was going to destroy my hospital room. The nurse took me seriously and left quickly. She returned to tell me that my C-Section was scheduled for 9:00 the next morning.
I never saw Michael
This was back in 1979. Doctors must not have known the importance of a mom to see her deceased baby and to hold him. It was a very important part of the grieving process. They put me under general anesthesia. When I woke up, a beautiful nurse told me about Michael. She described him in such detail – it was like she painted a picture of him which remained in my heart and mind to this day.
The nurse became so involved with me; she even came back to the hospital at night to sit with me and just talk. Everyone was making decisions for me. My parents told the hospital that they could have Michael for research. I never got to bury my son. But this beautiful nurse helped me keep my sanity. She was one of the kindest people I had ever met.
Going home
We went home and I do believe that the hardest part was looking at the nursery. I had hoped that someone had cleared everything out, but everything remained. The nurse from the hospital called me and asked if she could bring lunch for us the next day. We had a wonderful time. She talked about how beautiful Michael was and that he was in heaven. After a while she left.
Talking to God
I began receiving so many cards and letters from various people. I kept seeing “heaven” written in many of the cards. People kept saying that Michael was in heaven. I was consumed with the thought of going to heaven some day to see Michael.
Trying to find the nurse
I called the hospital and asked about this nurse. No one seemed to know her. I just could not understand why not one person in that ward knew this woman. After I did become a believer, I saw this verse:
“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (Hebrews 13:2).
What else could this have been?
My search to know how to go to heaven
I was consumed by this day and night. I wanted to be where Michael was. Growing up Jewish, for some reason I thought that the holiest people were Catholics. I began to go to a Catholic Church to take Catholic instruction. The priest was so old – he didn’t remember me week to week. I stopped going there. I felt that this was not the place I need to be.
1982
I had my Daniel in 1980 – perfectly healthy and a precious little guy. Then in 1982, I had Amanda – my sweet little girl. But my heart was still broken over Michael and I still didn’t know how to go to heaven when I died so that I would see him again.
There was a woman in my husband’s family with whom I had become so close. She had been drinking and also taking psychiatric drugs. She called me one day and told me that she had a gun. She told me that she had blasphemed the Holy Spirit and that God would never forgive her. I didn’t even know what “Blaspheme” meant, but I tried to talk to her and to get her to put down the gun.
I called her husband at work and told him what she had said. He told me that I was overreacting and that she would be fine. Just 3 days later she shot and killed herself. We were all devestated.
The Christians
We lived in a high rise apartment house. I was standing near the elevator and a couple approached me. I had never seen them before. They said that they heard about the tragedy and they wanted to help us any way they could. They said that they would watch Dan and Amanda for us, and also that Beverly wanted to cook for us. There was something different about them – something in their eyes. I trusted them. I didn’t know then that they were strong believers in Christ, and they were praying for my salvation.
The funeral
The funeral was over and we came home. I was so stressed out from the day. I began to walk up and down the stairwell. As I walked I talked to God. I asked him why He let all of these horrible things happen. I could feel myself getting angry.
Beverly and John had baked us dinner for the night of the funeral. They were going to bring the dinner over, but I didn’t want any company in our apartment. I thought to myself that I would stop by their apartment and get the dinner. And so I did.
The night I gave my life to Christ
When I walked in their apartment, Beverly went to get the dinner for me. John, her husband was standing with me and waiting. I began to weep. I began asking why God would allow something so horrible to happen. I heard Beverly putting the dinner back in the fridge. She came out and we all sat down.
continued...
grandmageri422.me/2017/03/28/the-story-of-michael-and-how-he-died-to-show-me-the-way-to-heaven/
By Geri Ungurean
March 28, 2017
Michael was my first child. We were so excited to meet this little guy. We had the nursery all prepared and decorated. As every expectant mom probably does, I would hold up the little undershirts and onesies. I could hardly wait for Michael to arrive.
We did the Lamaze classes. I was getting so close to the due date, but I began to worry. I had not felt Michael kick in a couple of days. I would even poke my tummy to try to make him move – nothing. I had an appointment with my obstetrician the next day. I drove myself. The doctor I had chosen did not come recommended by anyone in my family. I can’t even remember how I found him.
I was not yet a Christian. I went for my appointment. This doctor never used the doppler which I had heard so much about. He used a regular stethoscope. After listening for a while, he told the nurse “Fetal heart beat is fine.”
At that point I told the doctor that I had not felt movement for a few days. He opened a drawer and pulled out another stethoscope. I imagined that it was more powerful. He listened and moved the stethoscope around. And then he said the words I will never forget.
He told me that there was a chance that the baby was gone. But he said to come back in a week and he would confirm this. I was devastated. I remember driving home and hardly being able to see because of the tears pouring down my face. When I got home, I called my mother. She had one of my sisters take me to her obstetrician. He used the doppler. Then he told my sister that he wanted to meet with us in his office.
He told me that my baby was gone. I can’t even put into words how I felt. I could hardly move or breathe. He said that my body would soon attempt to pass the child and I would go into a type of labor. He said to go home and wait for this to happen.
That evening, I felt a tightening in my back and I knew that my body was trying to pass Michael. We called the doctor and he said that he would meet us at the hospital.
The doctor examined me and he told me that he wanted me to pass Michael naturally. He did not want to do a C-Section. They put me in a room and put in an IV. He told me that they were injecting pitocin which hopefully would make me dilate.
This went on for about 5 days. At night they put me in a ward away from mothers and their babies. In the morning they would wheel me down to that room and hook me up to give me more pitocin. It was obviously not working.
The realization that my baby was really dead
I remember lying in bed, looking at my huge stomach, realizing that my baby was deceased. I was numb. When I cried I thought that I’d never stop. Between the sobs, I would talk to God. I was not yet a believer but I always knew that God was real. I asked God if this happened to punish me for bad things I had done. It just felt good to talk to Him. I was never angry at God -I was just looking for answers.
The Visit
That night a friend came to visit me from work. She had become a Christian a few months before. The girls at work laughed behind her back because they knew the things that Elaina had done before she became a believer in Jesus. Elaina brought me a Bible. I had never had a Bible which included the New Testament. After our visit I put the Bible in my suitcase, thinking that I would never need it.
The breakdown
Suddenly I was filled with sorrow and rage. I pushed the button for a nurse. When she came in, I took a glass of water and hurled it against the wall. I told the nurse that I was at the end of my rope and I asked her to call my doctor and tell him that I wanted a C-Section the next day. I told her that if he said no, I was going to destroy my hospital room. The nurse took me seriously and left quickly. She returned to tell me that my C-Section was scheduled for 9:00 the next morning.
I never saw Michael
This was back in 1979. Doctors must not have known the importance of a mom to see her deceased baby and to hold him. It was a very important part of the grieving process. They put me under general anesthesia. When I woke up, a beautiful nurse told me about Michael. She described him in such detail – it was like she painted a picture of him which remained in my heart and mind to this day.
The nurse became so involved with me; she even came back to the hospital at night to sit with me and just talk. Everyone was making decisions for me. My parents told the hospital that they could have Michael for research. I never got to bury my son. But this beautiful nurse helped me keep my sanity. She was one of the kindest people I had ever met.
Going home
We went home and I do believe that the hardest part was looking at the nursery. I had hoped that someone had cleared everything out, but everything remained. The nurse from the hospital called me and asked if she could bring lunch for us the next day. We had a wonderful time. She talked about how beautiful Michael was and that he was in heaven. After a while she left.
Talking to God
I began receiving so many cards and letters from various people. I kept seeing “heaven” written in many of the cards. People kept saying that Michael was in heaven. I was consumed with the thought of going to heaven some day to see Michael.
Trying to find the nurse
I called the hospital and asked about this nurse. No one seemed to know her. I just could not understand why not one person in that ward knew this woman. After I did become a believer, I saw this verse:
“Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares” (Hebrews 13:2).
What else could this have been?
My search to know how to go to heaven
I was consumed by this day and night. I wanted to be where Michael was. Growing up Jewish, for some reason I thought that the holiest people were Catholics. I began to go to a Catholic Church to take Catholic instruction. The priest was so old – he didn’t remember me week to week. I stopped going there. I felt that this was not the place I need to be.
1982
I had my Daniel in 1980 – perfectly healthy and a precious little guy. Then in 1982, I had Amanda – my sweet little girl. But my heart was still broken over Michael and I still didn’t know how to go to heaven when I died so that I would see him again.
There was a woman in my husband’s family with whom I had become so close. She had been drinking and also taking psychiatric drugs. She called me one day and told me that she had a gun. She told me that she had blasphemed the Holy Spirit and that God would never forgive her. I didn’t even know what “Blaspheme” meant, but I tried to talk to her and to get her to put down the gun.
I called her husband at work and told him what she had said. He told me that I was overreacting and that she would be fine. Just 3 days later she shot and killed herself. We were all devestated.
The Christians
We lived in a high rise apartment house. I was standing near the elevator and a couple approached me. I had never seen them before. They said that they heard about the tragedy and they wanted to help us any way they could. They said that they would watch Dan and Amanda for us, and also that Beverly wanted to cook for us. There was something different about them – something in their eyes. I trusted them. I didn’t know then that they were strong believers in Christ, and they were praying for my salvation.
The funeral
The funeral was over and we came home. I was so stressed out from the day. I began to walk up and down the stairwell. As I walked I talked to God. I asked him why He let all of these horrible things happen. I could feel myself getting angry.
Beverly and John had baked us dinner for the night of the funeral. They were going to bring the dinner over, but I didn’t want any company in our apartment. I thought to myself that I would stop by their apartment and get the dinner. And so I did.
The night I gave my life to Christ
When I walked in their apartment, Beverly went to get the dinner for me. John, her husband was standing with me and waiting. I began to weep. I began asking why God would allow something so horrible to happen. I heard Beverly putting the dinner back in the fridge. She came out and we all sat down.
continued...
grandmageri422.me/2017/03/28/the-story-of-michael-and-how-he-died-to-show-me-the-way-to-heaven/
!!
