The Doctor said Giving Me Life Was an “Option”

My mother sat on the operating table-25 years old, spirit broken, heart torn apart, and absolutely weak from two weeks of grieving the loss of her sweet baby.  She should have been nine weeks pregnant today, and instead she was waiting for a DNC.

Last year, my Grandma told me about the night my mom called her sobbing on the phone, telling her that she thought she might be loosing her baby. Grandma told me she didn’t know what to say, but she stayed on the phone with my Mother so they could be together as they both wept.

Doctors told Mom to wait until the baby passed and then come in for the DNC. Two weeks later, she was still bleeding, so they scheduled the DNC, and here she was, not really ready, but physically present, and waiting for the Doctor.

“Hold on just a moment,” she remembers the nurse saying. “It’s not standard procedure, but I want to take an ultrasound.”  Ultrasounds were not common-especially this early on in pregnancy-in 1990.  But the nurse was concerned about all of the bleeding, so as the Doctor got ready for the DNC, she started the ultrasound.

And that is when they saw me. Alive, kicking, heart beating. My mom had no idea she had gotten pregnant with twins, nor would she ever have known had that nurse not been prompted by the Lord to double check.

As the pregnancy went forward, Doctors warned my parents about continuing on with it. Because they were unable to clean out my Mothers uterus, I was formed in a massive amount of blood, so they warned my parents that there would most likely be serious physical defects.

Right along with this warning came the word “options.” “You know, there are other options we can talk about,” my mom still vividly remembers the Doctor saying this. Immediately, she and my Father told the Doctors that as far as they were concerned there were no other options. The pregnancy would continue-no questions asked.

Six months in, when all fingers and toes were accounted for, the Doctor again approached my parents, this time warning about probable mental defects. Again, even though they admit they were tremendously nervous about what the Lord may be asking them to do, my parents responded with the fact that there was no doubt that they wanted their baby.

And because of this, I am here today, with three kids of my own.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for not even questioning. Thank you for desiring me, even though you thought I might be a tremendously difficult child to raise. We all grieve knowing that there is a brother or sister whose spot should have been filled at our table growing up, but rejoice knowing that God’s plan was, and still is perfect.



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