It happened 16 years ago when I was in labor with my beautiful son Ian. The pregnancy was hard, I spent most of it on bedrest to avoid miscarriage. The day of the birth the doctor did not come right away as expected but rather stayed at his residence to monitor me from there. I was okay with that at first, but halfway through the labor there were complications. Bad ones. My blood pressure spiked to stroke levels and the pain was horrific. Having had one child no pain killers I knew it was painful but this wasn’t normal. I was put on oxygen but I wasn’t getting enough. I overheard the nurses saying the doctor should come and “why won’t he come?” They said I might die. Meanwhile my son’s heartrate had gone from triple digits to single digits with every contraction and they said he was strangling from the cord. They said I needed emergency C section. This had to be done by the doctor who still was a no show. Nobody knew why. My mother was scared to death. She called my father said he should get there and called the family because she feared we would both die in labor. Please understand the worst part of this is my 9 year old daughter witnessed it all. She was in the room with me and my mother, she wouldn’t leave my side. I told my mom take her out but neither one of them would go anywhere. Finally the doctor arrived and detached the cord and Ian was born. Purple and swollen, and worse…silent. Nine nurses and the doctor frantically worked on my son for seven minutes while there was no sound and no movement. My son was dead. During this whole time I was in prayer. I told God I couldn’t handle losing my son. It was more than I could bear. I said no matter his disabilities I will handle it and love him. I will raise him to honor you I promise, just please bring back my son. In that moment I felt peace and I knew he answered my prayer. The doctor said he wanted to call it. I said “you can’t, he’s coming back. God’s bringing him back! Try again!” He didn’t believe me bit tried one last time. My son took a breath and cried for the first time. I cried too, tears of gratitude to a loving merciful God who granted me my miracle.
If you’re telling me my shoes are on the wrong feet...we have a bigger problem than shoes! Here's another fun Kid Logic Story from Omaha.