Tuesday, August 14, 2012

My Precious Gift From God

 I haven't kept up with my blogging for a few months now. Since I last wrote, my precious baby boy arrived! Ian Everette Ward was born June 11, 2012 at 10:22 p.m.

My due date was June 15th, but we had been praying Ian would come a few days early so that his grandpa could see him before he left to finish flight training. Around the 10th, I knew it wouldn't be long. It's amazing how God lets our bodies tell us "it's time." 
My water broke around 6 a.m. that morning, but I was having no contractions, so I had to be induced. Anyone who has ever had that done can attest that it is not fun. I always imagined labor to be horrid, but I am sure that made it worse. Hour by hour by contractions got harder, but they never really got as bad as I had originally convinced myself it would be. 
I was planning on having him the natural way, with the help of an epidural, and a lot of prayer. At the appointed time, I was given the epidural. First of all, the pain that shoots through your spine and leg as they insert that (what I considered to be) 15 foot needle into your back, is awful. Secondly, I can't thank God enough for giving someone the genius idea of that thing. After you receive it, you feel as though you could be in labor for the next 10 years and not care. Ok, back on subject.

It was about 7:30/8:00 in the evening when they couldn't find Ian's heartbeat. They couldn't find it earlier in the day, but we all assumed it was from my moving around and the heavy contractions. They began doing all they could to find it - and the last result was me on my hands and knees trying to get him to react. Nothing. By 9:30, the midwife was very concerned. She called in the head doctor and surgeons to do an emergency c-section. To be quite honest, I was scared out of my mind. They said my husband could come watch, but he had to wait to come in until they had prepped me. The room was freezing. My heart was beating faster and faster. The light's were bright, and the room seemed to echo like a scary dream. I was surrounded by people, but the only one I wanted was my husband. I didn't know if my baby was alive or dead, and I was so afraid that  I would come out of surgery with nothing but a broken heart and stitches. I was shaking like a leaf and praying that God would help me to accept whatever the outcome was. I would still love him and serve him, but please help my selfish heart to not grow bitter. Little did I know that my husband was praying outside the operating room. 
I felt sharp pricks on my stomach, and told the doctor. Next thing I know, the room is spinning, it feels like lights are flashing, and I felt like I was in a scene of a Matrix movie. I woke up in the recovery room, and couldn't remember anything.
Later I found out that the cord had been wrapped around Ian's neck. They pulled his limp, lifeless body out and laid him on the table. Roy said he prayed so hard that God would use this little boy, dead or alive, for his God's glory. They began to do CPR, and pump oxygen into his lungs, and after what seemed like an eternity, he little out a soft cry. The doctor said in all of his years as a doctor, he had never heard such a week cry. One of Ian's lungs had collapsed, and they said he would probably be at the hospital at least a week while it healed. He was hooked to all kinds of monitors, and they had his head encased in a plastic box so he could be given pure oxygen. 




I was able to see him for a brief minute through the glass window, and then I was wheeled to my room. I wasn't able to hold him until day two, and that was the longest two days of my life. Roy would go to check on him every chance he got, and reassure me that he was okay. This picture is of Ian holding his Daddy's (Roy's) finger for the first time. It is, and probably always will be my favorite picture of him. 


 Ian's lungs were back to normal the morning after he was born. The doctor said he had never seen anything like it. Roy told him it was all God because so many people had prayed for him. And the doctor just shook his head and said it was a miracle for sure. The midwife came in that day (her day off) to check on Ian. She said she hadn't slept because she was afraid he wouldn't make it through the night. Today, Ian is alive and well, and full of personality. I still pray that God will use our little boy for him, and that he can reach untold numbers of souls for God's glory.