(a mother’s prospective)
When Derek and I got
married in 1999, we chose to trust God's perfect timing for children. We waited.
And we waited.
After seven years of
marriage and still having no children, my husband was told by his friend about
a fertility clinic here in town that he and his wife had gone to. His wife was
8 months pregnant with their first child at that time.
Derek asked me to go with
him to consult a doctor to see if anything was “wrong” medically that could be
fixed. Derek made our appointment and off we went to the fertility clinic.
While we were in the
waiting room of the fertility clinic, an engulfing weight of horror came over
me, and I knew something horrible was going to happen if we did not leave that
waiting room immediately. The feeling of terror was so great that I wanted
immensely to bolt from the room.
Derek noticed the change in
my demeanor and asked what was wrong. I told him I thought we needed to leave
and not return to the clinic. I told him of the horrible feeling that had
entered my being and that I was sure something terrible was
going to happen if we became patients of the clinic.
Derek asked me to stay and
keep the doctor’s appointment.
I told him that if I wasn’t
a believer in the Sovereignty of God I would run out of the waiting room and
not return. However, since I believed in God's sovereignty, I was going to
choose submission and do as Derek had asked.
We had our consultation,
and the doctor assumed I had endometriosis, so he scheduled me for surgery. He
said the surgery was out-patient and the recovery time was two days. After the
two days, I could resume my normal activities. It was simply that easy to
correct endometriosis.
I struggled in my heart. I
felt the intense feelings of horror that engulfed me; I was certain of the
trauma that would come if I followed through with the surgery. Yet, I knew God
was (is) completely sovereign. I preached to myself.
Over and over again I
reminded myself that God’s declared will was for me to submit to my husband, if
I did that, I could trust the outcome to His sovereign hands. I knew that even
my possible death would be for His glory if I only walked in obedience.
I continued to preach to
myself. I was not going to allow my feelings to win over my knowledge of The Good
and Sovereign God. I knew He was trustworthy.
We went forward with the
surgery, and it was discovered that I indeed had endometriosis. Stage 2. It was
removed.
Upon waking up, I could not
move. The nurses were very kind and kept coaxing me to get up and walk. I could
not get up. I could not move.
The nurses gave me
narcotics. I still could not walk.
The recovery room was manned
only by the doctor’s nurses, and their work day ended at 5 p.m. Ready or not, I
had to leave at 5 p.m. They put me in a wheelchair and assisted Derek in
getting me into the car to go home.
At home, I slept on the
couch. Every movement was agony. I could not even walk to the restroom, so
Derek borrowed a walker for me to use.
On day two of the recovery,
a fever began. Derek called the doctor’s office to tell them about my pain and
fever. They told him I was “fine” and to give me “Tylenol and Gatorade” (as I
was not eating).
On day three of the
recovery, the fever worsened. Derek called the doctor’s office again. Once
again, the nurse told him I was fine and told Derek to give me Tylenol and
Gatorade.
On day four of the
recovery, I became delusional and began talking to Tinker Bell. My fever
remained high. Derek called the doctor’s office again. The nurse yelled at
Derek for bothering them. The nurse said that I was probably exaggerating and
to simply give me Tylenol for the fever and Gatorade to keep me hydrated.
That night I felt certain
that death was coming close. I asked Derek to stay with me and sleep in the
living room. In the morning I saw how scary I looked as I shuffled past a
mirror on my way to the restroom. My body had become extremely swollen
overnight, and I had no idea what was happening.
I woke Derek and told him
to take me to the hospital. Since the doctor’s office is a suite in the
hospital, Derek called the doctor’s office first (knowing they had Saturday
appointments from 7-9 a.m.), and told them I needed to be seen immediately.
The nurse yelled at
Derek! She told him that it was unnecessary, but if he really thought
it was an emergency, he had to have me there by 8 a.m. or they would not see
me.
The agony of getting to the
doctor’s office was almost more than I could bear! I was crying from the pain.
I thought I would die from my organs exploding with each push of the brake and
with every grout rut I had to be wheeled over while in the wheelchair.
I finally made it to the
doctor’s office alive. I was surprised. Upon seeing me, the nurses quickly
ushered me out of the waiting room and into a private room. The surgeon came in
and immediately began ordering the nurses around. I had toxic shock, and it was
day 5! I was literally on my death bed.
After multiple tests I was
placed into the ICU ward of the hospital. It was Saturday night by this time. I
overheard the infectious disease specialist tell the ICU nurse there was
nothing more they could do. With antibiotics pouring into my veins I drifted
off into unconsciousness.
Sunday passed. I was
unaware of it.
Monday morning dawned and I
awoke as the infectious disease specialist came in. His first words to me were:
“I never expected to see you alive again.”
GOD had kept me alive. Thus,
the surgeons went into action to combat the trauma my body was enduring due to
the toxic shock.
I spent ten days in ICU. My
days were full of battling complications.
I was eventually moved to a
regular room in the hospital for five days and then discharged. I came out of
the hospital with many medical issues due to the complications that had arisen
from my time at the hospital. But, I was alive.
A little while later, a
grapefruit-sized mass developed in my lower abdomen due to the toxic
shock—which had essentially melted my insides together. I was transferred to an
oncologist and prepped for yet another surgery.
A hysterectomy was
performed. I was shocked.
I kept preaching to myself
that God is completely sovereign over every detail of my life and so long as I
continued to walk in obedience to His declared will, I would be protected by
His perfect will and plan.
Having full trust in God’s sovereignty,
we knew there were no such things as accidents. Therefore, we did not sue the
surgeon or his staff.
God was at work.
During this time, Derek
began feeling a call for us to adopt from China. He asked me to pray and see if
God was leading me as well. I felt no need to pray—fully believing that God
would lead my husband as the leader of our family. However, I did as he asked.
I prayed for God’s direction. Within two months of praying, we both knew 100%
that God had called us to adopt from China. The door down that path had flung
wide open with nothing holding us back.
So, forward we charged.
On our first trip to China,
it became clear to both of us that I would have died shortly after adopting
Cherish, because it was during the complications of the toxic shock that my blood
had clotted. The hematologist had discovered that I had a hereditary disorder
that caused my blood to clot.
I had been so active in
life that I never knew I had the disorder. Had the discovery not been made
through the ordeal of the toxic shock, my blood would have clotted on the
international flight to China, and our daughter would have come to America to
be raised by a widowed daddy. What a blessed discovery!
