Our Miracle Girl (Part 10)

What rest I got during the night provided me with a refreshed perspective the next morning. And a good dose of humility. I was NOT "ready" to respond when the doctor asked for my decision. But since the Lord had been so specific in providing me with the verse that He did, I realized I could trust Him to give me the right answer in the very moment that I needed it.

When I arrived at the office, there was quite a bit longer wait than was usual. I was so pleased to find that the girl I had met and instantly bonded with at the last month's appointment was once again there on my same schedule. (We eventually became great friends, but have since lost touch again. Our kids are all same ages, same genders.) I was also glad that even with all that time to kill in the waiting area, we never discussed our pregnancies.

Anyone who has been through a miscarriage will tell you that one of the hardest aspects is having to deliver the news to all those happy people who want to congratulate you and not stare awkwardly into your eyes as you tell them that your baby has passed on. There is just no response that doesn't make them feel dumb or guilty when they beam "Hey there! How's that little rug-rat of ours doing?! Is it kicking yet?"

You have to tell them. You can't stand to have them go on cooing and grinning with joy about something that is no longer going to take place, but at the same time, you recognize what an uncomfortable position you put them in, to try to find some words to say when you both know there are none. Thankfully this time, we had learned our lesson. Like so many who experience miscarriage, we too wanted to wait a good while to spread the news the next time. That is why so many even near to us will be realizing for the first time with this story that there was a second occurrence. But for the few who had to stand there fumbling when we broke the news, I sometimes think I felt sorrier for them than they did for me. Not that they didn't have adequate sympathy. It's just that I had this peace that they wouldn't understand (especially in such contrast to my reactions the first time), and they were left trying to discern how to act or what to say.

Finally I was called back and prepped and I really don't remember any of the details until I was seated on the examination table and began, for the first time that morning to once again feel what comes normally to the flesh. I knew my doctor wouldn't do anything without telling me, of course, but this was it. I was already in a physical position that would be necessary if they were to perform the D&C and I wondered how much harder it would be now to go against the doctor's recommendations if the exam told him I needed the procedure. I began praying for God to call back to memory every Scripture verse I had ever learned. I was racing through all of them in half thoughts and "skim" mode.

The female attendant - a different one from the last Friday - was making final adjustments to the ultrasound machine. In one fluid motion the doctor walked to the door to flip the light switch off, then sat down on his swirly stool and slid over toward the equipment. But as he turned his face toward me, he had this look of surprise directed over my right shoulder. The U.S. technician was staring straight ahead at the monitor, looking normal. I don't know why, but honestly the first thing that occurred to me looking back at Dr. S. was that he was seeing a mouse and wasn't sure how to get her attention without bringing it to mine. There was no reason to suspect this. It was a beautiful and extremely clean office, but that's just where my mind went.

Next, Dr. S. started to look up at the screen and down at his chart with rapid transition, like a stock trader trying to keep up with late day exchanges. The technician even seemed puzzled. This whole thing took only about three to five seconds before he began rattling off medical jargon in a request for her input. There was a lot of quiet measurement-taking for another minute or two as the technician calmly concentrated, Dr. S. looked suspiciously interested and I became increasingly worried that all this meant the baby would have to be taken out via C-section.

FINALLY, he spoke to me. The doctor I mean. But then, you could argue it was finally God responding as well.

"Nikki, your baby looks entirely healthy. We're going to come back in a couple of minutes and look for more detailed markers just to make sure, but, there is a very strong heartbeat! And it looks like a lot of growth since Friday. Of course, that's one of the things we'll check because that is not necessarily always a positive thing, (then he explained all this stuff about the heart being much bigger than on Friday, but the body also, which was a huge mystery but good because they were not out of proportion.) But considering everything else, I have no reason to think this is anything other than a very positive developement. The baby's heart is beating and there are no obvious signs of stress. I just want to make sure we check this out thoroughly given the medical history." As he left the room for a moment, he told the oblivious technician that my chart on Friday had been marked as a Spontaneous Abortion.

Less than 90 seconds later, he had returned to my room and they did about a 15-20 minute examination. It was annoyingly quiet. There was only an occasional measurement given between the two or some Latin-sounding name - probably of an obscure internal body part. I wanted to be silent enough for him to concentrate, but I had so many questions racing around my head! I didn't want to even acknowledge what had already been said until I felt that it was "safe" to do so. Several times I had to "will away"a grin I would discover sneaking across my face. It seemed to be taking FOREVER!!!

But the full examination confirmed what I had been slowly realizing. I was witness to a real live physical miracle!

Of course, as it turned out, I never had to SAY anything! The Lord's handiwork spoke louder than my voice or human thoughts!

Could it have been that the machine simply did not work right on Friday? Sure, but still it worked for the women both before and after me. Could it have been that the baby's heart stopped only in those few moments, albeit more than an hour apart, that we were looking at it specifically? Yes, but that would indicate a heart problem, of which Dr. S. could find none now. Could it have been a faulty reading in the first place on Friday? Maybe, but there were multiple people in the room that day who saw the monitor and have experience in reading it and saw no movement at all. And not only that, but had the heartbeat simply been too weak to notice on Friday due to being at too early a stage of development, why was the chart now showing that the fetus was three weeks further in growth than just three days earlier?

No matter how I process it, it was a MIRACLE.

The same miracle that now plays tennis rather aggressively, asks to have her hair braided when she wants to look especially nice for an event, and can speak in an impeccable British accent. This was a miracle that loves cashews, hates green beans and irritates her brothers out of jealousy that she is without (at least an earthly) a sister. She's the miracle that loves to swim as much as her momma, eat spicy hot foods and rider roller coasters with her daddy, prefers one or two great friends to a whole bunch of superficial ones, sneaks candy and forgives easily. It's the miracle that lies in bed at night and says the sweetest prayers.

This is not the end of the story......