My mom often told me the story of how I came to be born.
She was scheduled to have her ovaries removed the very next day, when she went out to pray. She often went to an old stump to be alone with God. This day she went out with tears in her eyes crying out to God. She expressed her desire to have a daughter. A voice came to her that seemed to say, "you lack hope". She also remembered the verse in Hebrews 11:11, Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. She had lost hope of ever having a baby.
When you went back to the house, the phone was ringing. The nurse was frantically trying to reach her. Apparently, someone had finally thought to test if my mom was pregnant. It turns out that she was 3 months pregnant. The nurse explained to my mom that the surgery had to wait until after the baby was born. The nurse also scheduled my mom for an ultrasound.
Time passed quickly as she prepared for my arrival. When she was 7 months pregnant, the unthinkable happened. She was involved in an accident. Someone rear-ended her. She was driving a 1961 Ford Pick-up truck.
This truck didn't have seatbelt. The Steering wheel is solid metal. Her stomach hit the steering wheel.
Upon examination at the hospital, it was determined that the baby was dead. There was no fetal heartbeat. There were no signs of life. No movement.
The doctors did their best to explain to my mom that I was dead. They explained that the impact had been too much. My mom only cried, "No, No, you are not taking my baby!"
The doctors scheduled the procedure anyway. They had decided to give my mom 3 days to come to terms with her lose. They instructed my dad to take my mom home and make her understand. They explained that if the dead baby was not removed, she would set up infection and die.
This time my mom refused to lose hope. On the appointed day, at the appointed time, she went to the hospital. She demanded another ultrasound. The doctors agreed on 1 condition. The condition was that if no signs of life could be found, the procedure would take place.
During the ultrasound, the technician not only found my heartbeat she saw my mom's stomach move when I started kicking. The technician called for the doctor. The doctor agreed to cancel the procedure.
Two months later, it was finally time for me to be born. I was jerking in the birth canal. I was jerking so badly that the doctors thought I was in distress. They called in the specialists. The specialists were waiting for me to come out.
When I come out, everyone burst into laughter. They were so relieved that the specialists were not needed. I only had the hiccups.
My mom has told me this story many times over the years. She always ended with "If God gives you a promise, Never Lose Hope!"
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