Hi, My Friends!
Last week my sweet friend, Beth Jones, shared a couple of excellent articles with us – if you missed them, you can read them here: http://bit.ly/i9jCLV and http://bit.ly/eyjF4X .
In keeping with the theme of these articles, Beth is writing an incredibly powerful book called, “The Hands Of A Woman: Everyday Women in Everyday Battles”, set to release at the end of the month. I was honored to be asked to share some of my family’s story for this book. Because our story would take a whole book to tell, I chose to focus on Seth’s birth, first surgery, and first miracles. Below is an excerpt of what I wrote for Beth’s book. To read the rest, you’ll have to buy her book 
. Make sure to head over to her site and sign up for her ezine. It’s the best way to stay in touch with Beth and keep up to date on the release of this must have book. Yes, I believe, it’s a must have, especially for you, my friends. You need the encouragement and the empowerment that this book will give. You will be encouraged by others stories of the awesome things God has done in their lives. You will be empowered by God with a renewed, stronger faith, and a better understanding of your importance – God has entrusted something precious into your hands. Enjoy my excerpt… Love, Kimberly
I remember the day our only child was born, almost 13 years ago, so clearly. I had loved being pregnant, and while I was anxious to meet our baby (we never had an ultrasound done so we had no idea if the baby was a boy or girl), I wasn’t anxious to not be pregnant anymore. I loved carrying our baby with me every where I went, feeling the little kicks and the not so little ones too.
Then there was the whole awesome birthing process! I remember being amazed and empowered by the realization that God had made me for this. I really could do this! I could go through the most painful experience of my life, and I would have a baby to show for it! How impressive! I felt so strong.
Then, the life changing moment happened, our son, Seth entered the world at 3:45 on a Friday afternoon. I held him, looking into the little face that was the very image of his father. Amazing. Totally, completely, amazing.
Time with him was short as the hustle and bustle to care for us both began. It was then that my husband, Randy, asked about Seth’s color, “Why is he so blue?” The nurse told him that it was normal and it would get better. As the minutes passed and his color didn’t get better, Randy once again asked, “Why is he still so blue?” This time, though, his concern wasn’t brushed off – they were concerned too.
Before I even knew what was happening, Seth was placed in an oxygen crib. It was a little bed with clear sides and top over it. It gave him the oxygen he wasn’t getting on his own. Because this hospital was not equipped to handle neo-natal intensive care, some very basic tests were given. It was determined that “something” was wrong with Seth’s heart and he would need to be transferred to another local hospital – a prestigious hospital well able to care for whatever Seth may be facing.
While we waited for the ambulance, I was made to eat and prepared to transfer to the other hospital. Within 2 hours of giving birth, I was in my street clothes, riding in our car with my husband not far behind the ambulance carrying our baby.
Why didn’t I go in the ambulance with my newborn? I often ask myself that, feeling like a bad mother for leaving his side. Yes, it was recommended that I didn’t go with him but I also desperately needed to be with my husband. It wasn’t that I was so afraid for Seth, I wasn’t yet, but I clearly knew to stay with Randy. I think that it was God’s urging, His protective love guiding me. We later learned that in that short ambulance ride across town, Seth had stopped breathing twice. God knew that seeing that, watching them perform CPR on my newborn would shatter me. He knew that I was not strong enough to witness the breath of life leave my son and the fight it took to bring it back.
Meanwhile, I rode with my husband, holding his hand, not knowing what was happening in the ambulance. I was sure that we would get to this other hospital and they would find out that Seth’s problem was no big deal. I mentioned earlier that I hadn’t had an ultrasound while I was pregnant. They weren’t so common then, but we also knew that no matter what health problems our baby might have, we would keep and love him or her. But, as we drove to the other hospital, I thought about all the nights I spent in prayer and how God had whispered to me each time, “Your baby will be OK.” I held on to that promise, confident in God’s promise to me, and sure that these doctors would repeat His words, “Your baby is OK.”
I was confident in my relationship with God because during the year before I became pregnant, He gave me such an incredible hunger for more of Him. I read the Bible and books like, “Mere Christianity”. I prayed constantly. Church and two weekly Bible studies were part of my schedule. I could not get enough of Him.
Later, I realized He gave me that hunger because He knew I wasn’t strong enough to face the life my family was embarking on without Him.
Family members were already waiting at the hospital and saw Seth brought in by the ambulance crew. I can’t imagine what it was like for my parents to see the second of only two grandchildren brought into the world that way.
We waited and waited as they ran tests and it seemed very late, though it was probably only 9:00, when they were ready to give their diagnosis. They explained to us that Seth had pulmonary atresia, but not exactly. His pulmonary valve (the first defect) was very thick and barely functioned. It allowed only a trace amount of blood to pass through to his lungs in order to receive the oxygen his body needed. Most of his blood was being pushed back the way it came; back up through his extremely small right ventricle (defect #2) and his smaller than normal tricuspid valve (defect #3). It would then pass through a hole (defect #4) from his right upper atrium to his left upper atrium and out to his body, without receiving any oxygen. Years later, we learned that he actually had 2 holes.
The doctors scheduled open-heart surgery for Wednesday, 5 days after he was born. They would be putting a patch in the pulmonary valve to keep it open and allow more blood to flow the right way through his heart. They would also be getting a better look at the severity of his other defects.
The hospital’s head pediatric heart surgeon was ending his vacation in South Carolina early and would be here, in Iowa, as soon as possible. I later met a father who angrily told me this doctor would not do surgery on his son – his case wasn’t difficult enough. He was an excellent surgeon, with 40 years of experience, the kind you want for your child.
While I remember the day of Seth’s birth well, the days of waiting for surgery were a blur – I believe I was in shock. These were the days my panic attacks began. My heart would race and I became so short of breathe, I couldn’t breath at all. Not knowing what was happening and fearing it was my heart, I hid these attacks from everyone for as long as I could. I was afraid they would take me away from my baby to care for my own heart.
This is just the beginning – there’s much more to our story, but you’ll only find it in Beth Jones’ soon to be released e-book ”The Hands Of A Woman: Everyday Women in Everyday Battles”.
