After graduation, I put my life on hold, and my boyfriend went upstate for the summer. We kept in touch constantly, if we weren’t on the phone, we were sending letters out to each other. I had a horrific summer, all I could think of was where is my God. My mother and I would not stop bickering.
Then, finally summer was over and I was welcoming my boyfriend back. A week later I ran away with him assuring me everything would be better. Then, in September we were briskly married. Our parents were not to happy, on the decision we drastically made.
Who would have thought I’d be leaving one messed up family to join another. My husbands family was not very welcoming, let alone want us to start a family. My husband’s mother started me on birth control. To impress her, I took the pill for a month, then I rebelled and got off it.
It didn’t take long, until I became pregnant. Through out the whole pregnancy I was having so many problems with my family, my husband’s family, and my husband. We as a family could not come to an understanding, so we constantly argued. Sitting in my room I wondered where was my God when I needed him?
Thirty four weeks later I have an accident, that leads me to the hospital, and an early delivery. As I arrive the hospital staff prepares me for surgery. My placenta abrupted, bleeding so quickly, that my baby was in danger.
I prayed asking God not to abandon me in my desperate need. The doctor performed an emergency C-section. I didn’t know what had happened to my baby, if she had lived or died. When I asked my nurse she said she didn’t know, for a new shift had started. My husband, my parents, and my siblings were no where to be found.
Fear ran through my body, as if someone was choking my every breathe. My every moment was filled with despair. All that was left was my faith. I had to find my way back to my Lord, he would be the only one to guide me.
Finally, the doctor walks in to explain exactly what was going on with my baby. When he was speaking to me, everything seemed so far as if he was mumbling every word. It was hard for me to process, being such a young mother. His words came to a stop and I asked him “What do I do to make things better?” He replied, “Pray, that is all that is left.”
My daughter spent six weeks in an incubator, with an IV put on her head. Weighing only four pounds five ounces, they were concerned with her weight. Her lungs were premature, she wasn’t able to breath on her own. Since, she wasn’t able to breath on her own they put her on a ventilator.
Weeks went by, and all the doctor would say “expect the unexpected.” He wasn’t giving us any good news. So, I asked God to forgive me for losing faith in him before, and to give my daughter the strength she needed to live. My father told me not to lose faith, that God loved us and he would do what was best. My father assured me God had never left me in my time of need, I had left him.
My daughter finally got all the strength she needed. She began to rip the IV out of her head, and pulled the tubes out of her nose. To the nurses amazement, she began to breath on her own. They called the doctor and he got her off the ventilator. Six weeks after my daughter was so fragile, she began to show signs of improvement. Four days after she removed her tubes and IV they released her to me.
Where would we have been if it wasn’t for the power of prayer? The doctors, and nurses could have never done this on their own, if it wasn’t for all the praying. The doctor was the one who had told us to pray, have faith, for it was all in the hands of God.