Two weeks ago, I woke up and my water broke.
Two weeks ago, I didn’t have any idea how much my life was going to change.
Two weeks ago, I didn’t know what I was about to face.
Yesterday, a friend said she had the epiphany while driving to the hospital to see me, “I could have just as easily been driving to your funeral.”
Sometime when we sat beside our teeny, tiny daughter’s bedside this past week John said, “I just didn’t know how I’d be able to show her who you were.”
Many times, doctors and nurses that I don’t remember have stopped and said with hushed voices and a squeeze of the hand, “I am so glad to see you today.”
And over and over again, many times an hour, I say an awestruck thank you to God for hearing the prayers of His people and calling me back from the brink of death.
This two weeks has been a crash course in the beauty of the body of Christ and the majesty of God Himself. These two weeks have shown me miracles. Miracles of provision, miracles of service and love towards us, medical miracles and miracles of answered prayer.
It started with miracles of provision. As I waited in the hospital for something to change, my sister was organizing and mobilizing the people of God. People I know, people I don’t know, people I can’t wait to get to know have fed my family, cared for my home and yard, taken care of my little girls, purchased needs for our home, Christmas gifts, a recliner for me to recuperate in. God opened up the floodgates of heaven and rained down provision, it just streamed through the hands of His people. We sat in humble amazement as the people of God loved on us. Our hearts swelled. Our cup ran over and over and over.
And then I began to hemorrhage again on Sunday after this post and a long visit from my dad and my husband and my kids. It was scary and went from scary to really scary pretty quickly and it stayed really scary. I remember almost nothing from Sunday night at 10pm until 1:00 on Monday. I opened my eyes to a clock that said 1:00 and I could see that it was daytime outside and I knew that just wasn’t right. I’d gone into surgery at 10pm. It should be 1:00am…what had happened in the night? I had one flash of memory- tons of voices talking, pain in my mid section, feeling paralyzed and terribly afraid but that was my only memory. And it was brief. I lay there, intubated, trying to figure out what had happened.
When I finally got the tube out (shudder…that was rough)…John and Bethany filled in the gaps for me. I was prayed away from the brink of death, friends. John said it did not start to turn around until he and the rest of my family began calling on people to pray and pray with authority. I had been losing blood faster than they could replace it. I was up to 24 units- the body holds 8.
I had a procedure done in radiology that was a last ditch-this might work procedure that did begin to work. As the people prayed, my bleeding slowed. As the people prayed, I began to come back.
I listened to John and Bethany talk about how close I’d come to leaving this world and was humbled anew. Miracles of medicine and medical know how. That my doctors never gave up. Miracles of a praying people. Miracles of a praying people who spoke, sang and shouted life over me.
And as all of that went on and the battle for me was raging…a little girl noisily entered the world and defied all expectations. Nora Elizabeth Jean, world changer did well from the moment she was born screaming and flailing.
This tiny two pound, 14 ounce long miracle girl burst into the world and amazed us all.
She has done so well since the very beginning. And now she is six days old and she has a long road ahead of her but I can see her strength and I know that she will continue to grow and grow stronger.
At first, after my surgery and my experiences, I was really unwell. I would fall asleep in mid sentence, I had pain, I was exhausted. It took until day three to have the stamina and the strength to come and meet my sweet little warrior princess. But that day came and I was deeply amazed by her. For one thing, she is indescribably tiny. For another, she is fearfully and wonderfully made. For a third…she is my prize for surviving all of this and I love her big.
It’s as though all the strength of all the women she is named after (and there are about 20 people she is named for with Elizabeth and Jean) have come together in Nora. She is strong, feisty, tough…a fighter.
Her daddy and I are so grateful for her big presence and her tiny, well formed body. She has a purpose and a destiny and she is beginning life with an amazing testimony.
The second time I went to see her, I still felt such awe…but also overwhelming love and gratefulness and I wept as I held her for a good ten minutes. Tears just fell as I held her warm little body close. Thank you, Jesus for saving us. For letting me hold this precious daughter. For letting us have each other.
Our lives have changed in two weeks.
We are humbled and loved deeply. We are thankful and our hearts overflow. We are aware of the power of God’s people, of the power in His Hand.
Two weeks ago, my water broke…today, I’m going home. I’m recovering. I’m going to be okay. We have the day Nora comes home to look ahead to. We have days in between where we can just sing praises and shout our thanksgiving and love each other.
1 The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. 2 He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, 3 he restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousnessfor his name’s sake. 4 Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. 5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. 6 Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever.