This year we experienced a miracle. Fore those who believe that God does not listen to our prayers, we know differently. The following story is true, and we share it with you as our testimony of faith. May you be blessed by our story!
Karen tells the first part of this story:
It was after 10:00 P.M. on the evening of Saturday, September 27, 2002 when the home pregnancy test confirmed that we were having a baby! If our calculations were right, we should be holding our child in June of 2003. Regardless of the late hour we began to call our family. We knew they would be equally excited and would not mind the late night call. This was no ordinary pregnancy, we had asked God for a miracle and he had answered our prayers. After two miscarriages, unsuccessful infertility treatments and three years of prayer, we were pregnant!
Our miracle had begun two months earlier in July when we had attended a church service where they announced a "Miracle Seed Offering," and encouraged people who were praying for a miracle to plant a seed of faith. We were prompted to give to this offering and ask for a miracle child.
The conception would only be the beginning of our miracle. God was about to lead us on a journey beyond our imagination. The journey would be long and treacherous, but he would be in control each step of the way. In retrospect we can now see his divine hand as he led people into our lives that would play a critical roles in our journey.
The first such person was the physician who would guide me through the pregnancy and be instrumental in the saving of both my life and Evanís. I learned of this physician while attending a Christian Infertility Support Group, a week before I knew I was pregnant. I wrote his name down for future reference, not knowing I would be calling him sooner than I imagined. I phoned Dr. Robert Milliganís office and made an appointment. My husband, Norman, said "I went to school with a guy by the same name, think it might be him?" At our appointment we discovered it was the same person that Norman had attended elementary through high school with and now he was to play a key role in our miracle.
As the pregnancy progressed we were expecting a June 5th delivery. A Sonogram in the fifth month revealed that I had total placenta previa, which meant the placenta was covering the opening to the womb and I could not have a normal delivery. The doctor said we could not chance contractions and the rupturing of the placenta, so a C-Section would be scheduled two weeks early. I was told to not lift anything over 20 pounds and to rest as much as possible. So for the next month I watched as my husband took on the house hold chores, his least favorite being emptying the cat box. I was taking no chances with this pregnancy.
On April 11, in my 32nd week of pregnancy, I experienced bleeding and contractions. Since this was my third episode of bleeding, I was admitted to the hospital where I would spend the next 32 days on complete bed rest. Over the course of the next few weeks I would become a resident patient and develop deep friendships with my nurses. God had positioned Christian nurses all around me and I would learn later of the part their prayers would play in saving my life.
Dr. Milligan monitored the baby continuously and set a delivery dates for May 14th, 37 weeks into the pregnancy, at 12:30 P.M., lunchtime! The day before my delivery the nurses came in one by one and presented their baby gifts. They were fighting over who would get to be in the delivery room when Evan Patrick was to be born. As Marla, my night nurse, came on duty at 7:00 P.M., she joked about how we would soon see whom this "little guy looked like". Marla, an avid reader, had just finished reading an article that day on amniotic fluid embolisms. God was preparing Marla for her role in his miracle.
At around 3:00 A.M. on May 14th, I awoke from my sleep and noticed had begun to bleed. I called for Marla and she monitored my contractions. She went to call Dr. Milligan, and returned to my room and said "we are having a baby, Dr. Milligan is on his way!" She informed me that she had called Norman and he was on his way. I phoned my mother as Marla began to prepare me for surgery.
As Marla prepped me for surgery, we giggled about how surprised the day shift nurses would be when they arrived at 7:00 A.M. and found out that Evan had already been born. As I was wheeled into surgery Marla explained that the anesthesiologist on call was not answering his pages, but that she had located another anesthesiologist, Dr. Paulson, who agreed to do the spinal tap. Dr. Paulson had been on her way out of the hospital and getting ready to leave on a well-deserved vacation when she was turned around and came back for this last surgery. She would play another key role as she was the one who would "call" the events that would take place in the operating room. She would be the only physician on the team who had ever experienced this rare medical occurrence called an "amniotic fluid embolism," and she had only seen one in her lifetime.
My husband and mother arrived just as the surgery began, and we laughed at the reason they were late. My mother had dressed up and wore her high heels and she couldnít get the surgery booties over her high heals and had to shove her feet into my slippers because they wouldnít let her in the operating room without shoes under the booties.
The journey was beginning and I found myself fighting for breath. "Norm, I canít breath!" Norman said, "Honey itís all right." Dr. Paulson knew better and began to order people out of the operating room and to take charge!
Karenís mom, Pat, tells the second part of this story:
The voice on the other end of the phone was Karen. It was 3:30 A.M. on May 14, 2003, and she chuckled as she said, "Mom, Evan is not going to wait until noon, he has decided to come early." The phone call brought a smile to my face as I contemplated whether Evan would have blond hair, blue eyes, or dark hair like his father. I had been waiting to see this little guy for 8 months! I told Karen I would be there in less than an hour. .
I jumped in the shower, washed my hair, put on my makeup and joy poured out of my heart as my car headed toward the hospital. As I entered Karenís room, Norman greeted me and told me Karen had been wheeled to surgery and to hurry and get on my scrubs. Norman and entered the surgery suite just as the doctor made the C-Section incision on Karen. It would not be long now, Evan was on his way! I had my camera ready to capture Evan as he entered this world.
Then something horribly wrong happened, I began to notice the massive amount of blood was flowing through the tube next to me out of Karenís body. Three doctors were working beyond the curtain that separated us, but they appeared serious and very concerned. Karen then said "Norman, help me, I canít breath." Norman patted her head, and the Anesthesiologist moved between Norman and I and began to check Karenís vitals.
At that moment the doctor was able to retrieve Evan and he was passed to a team of nurses. Fear flooded my being as I noticed he was blue. I now knew what a "blue" baby meant! Evan was placed in an incubator, and the five nurses began to work on him. He was not making any sounds. One nurse yelled, "Give me a count." Another nurse called out two minutes, and counting. Evan was not breathing and now they were fighting to save his life. Oh God help himÖwe canít lose him now. At that point I was focused on Evan, when the anesthesiologist put her hand on my shoulder said, you have to leave now.
I heard Evan whimper, and thanked God for his small voice. They wheeled Evan off to the neo-natal ward, in an incubator and called for a specialist. We were ushered out of the surgical suite. Something was not rightÖnurses were running everywhere. I heard orders being shouted for a "crash cart," one nurse was running up with corridor with blood packets, and yet another nurse was on the phone demanding six more units of blood. What was happening? No one would tell us anything. We knew from the look on the faces of Karenís nurses something was very wrong!
I went to my knees in the hallway outside the surgical suite and began to pray. In my heart I knew I was pleading for my daughterís life. I continued to pray, and wait for reports, but nothing! Finally the doctor emerged from the delivery room and said they were taking Karen to ICU as she has suffered an amniotic fluid embolism and was in critical condition.
We followed her to ICU and on the way I called Jacque Melton from my church and asked her to call the prayer chain. It was 7:00 in the morning and we needed a miracle. In less than an hour Pastor Wayne Unger was there and praying over Karen. We did not realize the severity of the situation. but we knew Karen was on a ventilator, and tubes were connected to every part of her body. The severity of situation became apparent a couple of hours later as they told us they could not stop the bleeding and that they were going to take Karen back into surgery, reopen the abdominal cavity and try to find the source of the bleeding.
Individuals from our church began to gather in the waiting area outside of ICU and we began to link hands and pray for Karen and Evan. Evan was waging his own battle in the neo-natal unit. He too had received blood and was fighting to live. I did not have the strength or inclination to go see Evan. Something in me loved him, but I feared his birth could result in the death of my daughter.
Our worst fears were realized when the hospital assigned a social worker to us, and the Kaiser doctor advised us that Karen was most likely going to die. I will never forget the pain that shot through my heart as Karenís husband asked the doctor, what are you saying. The doctor repeated himself, and said, "She is going to die." Norman went to be with Karen, and I sat motionless outside the ICU with friends from the church crying and praying.
The doctors continued to try to stabilize Karen and we continued to petition God for her life. At 10:00 A.M. they wheeled Karen out of ICU and down to surgery. A hematologist had been called and was transfusing Karen with blood. as her blood would not coagulate. We would learn later that she would receive 34 units of blood, and the human body only has nine.
As they wheeled Karen through the corridors of the hospital a trail of prayer walked behind her with fifteen people from our church and numerous nurses. I watched as an unknown middle-aged black women approached Karenís gurney, touched her hair, and said "God take care of her." Nurses who were off duty, and who attended Karen during her month in the hospital, began to come in to the hospital and stand outside of the operating room. Members from our church gathered in the chapel outside the operating room and continued to pray. At each "bad report," we went to our knees again and begged God for Karenís life. At 3:30 P.M. the news was still not good, Karen was still bleeding. At that point in time Pastor Wayne called us all together and as we held hands he petitioned heaven in a way I have never heard before. He petitioned God for Karenís life and spirit. He asked that he return her spirit to her body and heal her completely!
Thirty minutes later we received the first good report. The bleeding has subsided to the point that they were able to close the incision and leave four drain tubes to her vital organs. She was not out of the woods, but things had turned. We went to our knees and began to praise God for his wondrous miracle.
Doctor Milligan and Doctor Yip joined us in the chapel as they wheeled Karen to ICU. I believe they knew they had witnessed a miracle, but cautioned us that there were still unknowns. Amniotic embolisms are usually 86% fatal, and most women die within the first hour. Of those who survive, there is a 70% chance of neurological damage.
During the next hour I began to call my Christian friends and ask for their prayer support. My first call went to Dee Dee, my friend in Running Springs who is a charismatic prayer warrior. Dee Dee, a trained surgical nurse, immediately knew the diagnosis and realized the severity of the event.
Don drove me home at 9:00 P.M. to take a shower and get a bite to eat. Before I headed back to the hospital Dee Dee called me and said I needed to take oil with me to the hospital to anoint Karen. Growing up in an evangelical faith I knew the significance of the elders anointing the sick
I took a special handkerchief my friend, Dr. Sharon, had brought me from the Ukraine, and sprinkled it with olive oil and put it in a zip lock bag. I was a little embarrassed as I took the bag out of my purse. I spoke gently into Karenís ear and told her I was going to anoint her with oil. She nodded and blinked her eyes. She could not talk as there was on a ventilator
The nurse entered the room as I held the handkerchief to Karenís forehead and the nurse saidÖ"Oh, you are anointing her with oil that is good." God had sent a praying Christian nurse to watch over Karen. This nurse would later give up her day off to stay with Karen through the next 24 hours.
I anointed Karenís forehead and sat there rubbing her beautiful blond hair, I could not even recognize my daughter as she was swollen like a helium balloon. I would learn later that the fluids they were forcing into her body to help her blood coagulate were responsible for her swelling.
I went out into the waiting room at 11:00 P.M. to pray. It was quiet and Dr, Milligan wandered through about 11:30 P.M. He told me that Karen had survived, but not too be too hopeful, she was still critical. The next few days would tell the story. He was still concerned about her neurological condition as there could be significant brain damage.
My phone rang just before midnight and it was Dee Dee. She said the Lord just showed her a vision where I had been sitting next to Karenís bed, stroking her hair. She saw four angels, one at each end of Karenís bed, and two at each side. They held long swords and as the angels lowered their sword over Karen, the tips of the swords met and a light shot forth. She said Karen is going to live and God is going to heal her completely!
The next day as I sat beside Karenís bed she nodded that she wanted to write a note. She could not speak with the ventilator still inserted in her throat, but she scratched out the following words. "What happened?" We went through a few questions and answers, when Karen wrote, "Does my friend Shelley know?" I told Karen I had not called Shelley because I did not know her telephone number. Karen immediately, without hesitation, wrote Shelleyís number on the scratch pad. I realized God had just confirmed to me that there was no neurological damage!
Karen was in ICU for ten days, and recuperating for six months. A recent examination by a heart doctor revealed there is no damage to Karenís heart and she is back to work. Evan is a healthy seven-month-old, who is crawling and exploring everything! We continue to thank God today for Evan and Karen!
Do you have a miracle story that you would like
Please mail it to me and I will post it on this site.
Thanks for stopping by.
This page address: