My Son, My Miracle Page 11

When Jared was 12 days old . . .

The Great Physician

The blessed Christ of God I see,

In that fair land of Galilee,

He speaks in loving words to me,

“I am the Great Physician.”

Healed by the Great Physician,

Healed by the Great Physician,

Glory to God! He saves the soul,

Maketh the suff’ring body whole;

Thus at His feet my burdens roll,

Healed by the Great Physician.

 With all my heart I do believe,

I dare not doubt, His Spirit grieve;

Each suff’ring one He will relieve—

Christ is the Great Physician.

With great compassion Christ was stirred

While He the plea of suff’ring heard,

He spoke the great life-giving word,

“I am the Great Physician.”

He saved the soul from sin and shame,

He healed the sick, the blind, the lame;

I know His pow’r is just the same—

Christ is the Great Physician.

--Barney E. Warren

Jared - 9 Days Old

For some unknown reason, I was not released from the hospital right away as my doctor had led me to believe was going to happen.  I was still extremely ill and once Steve learned of the conversation I had with the doctor in the middle of the night, he refused to leave my side.  He was not only fighting for his son's life, but now for the life of his wife.  The kind nurses brought a small bed into my private room and moved it as close to my bed as possible so that Steve could have a place to rest.

When I was in the delivery room being prepped for my cesarean, things did not go well from the beginning.  My first son was delivered using saddle block anesthesia and I suffered debilitating headaches for six months after his birth.  So, I opted for epidural anesthesia this time.  I wanted to be awake to greet my newborn.  The epidural was placed in my spine and anesthesia was administered. 

When my toes were pricked for numbness, I felt the prick.  More anesthesia, more testing .  I  still did not feel numb.  This cycle was repeated several times.  I was petrified they would not believe me and start the surgery.  Finally, it was decided to rip, and I mean literally rip, the tape and epidural out of my spine and start over.  Steve was waiting to be called in for the surgery and was getting concerned.  Another needle was inserted into my spine and more anesthesia was delivered.  This time the anesthesia worked and I was numb from the waist down. 

Twice during the surgery, my legs felt like they were on fire.  The surgery was being observed by several medical students and at one point during one of the burning episodes, someone was asked to remove their hands from my legs.  I also heard them talking about my internal organs as they were being observed.  I wondered if the infection was connected to my delivery.

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I was still in the hospital when Jared turned 12 days old.  That morning, Steve felt he needed to go home to check on  our other two sons.  The kind members of our church were taking turns with the boys but our being separated from them was taking a toll on us and them.  When one of the boys got sick, they just happened to be staying with a Doctor and his family and we took comfort in knowing they were in good hands.  This was just another confirmation to me that God was in control. 

Around noon of Jared's 12th day on earth, I looked up from my bed to see a tall, slim, kindly looking cardiac surgeon walking towards me.  Seeing my condition, he soft-spokenly and delicately informed me that the ductus they had been trying to keep open was beginning to close and in order to save Jared's life, a shunt was going to have to be placed in his chest.  There was a three-hour window. 

I tried, unsuccessfully, to get out of my bed to be with my son--to comfort him before going into open-heart surgery.  I thought it might be my last opportunity to see him alive.  Dr. Baird insisted that I not leave my hospital bed and assured me that he would meet me back in my room as soon as the surgery was over.  In a panic I called Steve.    He was at least an hour away.  He hurried back to the hospital and was able to visit with Jared only briefly before turning him over to the surgeons. 

After bidding his son goodbye, Steve returned to my hospital room and climbed into bed with me.  Side by side, hand in hand, we prayed for our little cherub.  We both experienced an overwhelming comfort from our Heavenly Father.  We sensed that Jared was being guarded by angels and that the surgeons were receiving divine assistance and that Jared indeed would survive his second life-threatening invasive surgery in twelve days.  Exhausted, we both drifted off into a most peaceful sleep.

More to Come . . .