There is a game that I like to play. In my mind, I transport myself to another time & place with this simple statement….
last week, last month, a year ago I was (insert activity here).”
Today was a trip back into time for me.
This time 26 years ago, I was pregnant & bed ridden. And I would remain bedridden for a full nine months.
Having miscarried in February, this time, signs of trouble appeared even before having this pregnancy confirmed by my obstetrician. I called him & he said, “You know the drill. Lie down. Feet up. Let’s wait & see what happens.”
And wait we did. When I was a month pregnant, he had me come into his office & scheduled an ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy. At that appointment, it was assured me that I was indeed pregnant. The test also showed no apparent signs for the bleeding that was occurring. Not wanting that I get my hopes up & face disappointment again, my doctor kindly stated, “With your history, don’t get your hopes up that this one will go full term.”
He gave instructions for me to continue bed rest. He also told me that bed rest is recommended solely for the benefit of pregnant woman. It would not change a thing regarding whether the pregnancy would be viable. But I would feel like I was doing something, which somehow would protect the life inside of me. And it would help me not to feel guilty that I had not done all if things did not bode well.
I would have done anything for this pregnancy to go full term. Anything. And so, that summer, I planted myself firmly on our bed with our then six year old daughter. We did everything on the bed together. She somehow enjoyed that summer fully & came to regard our bed as a campground of sorts. We played games, did puzzles, watched TV & ate our meals there. Actually, I could have won the trophy for being the best bed rester. Seriously.
Every visit to my OB proved that the life in me was still growing. Yet the visible threat was also a still present reminder of what could happen.
I had very little company or visits. But the visits I did have were full out prayer meetings for the protection of the life inside of me.
Newly relocated friends of ours came to the house often. They cleaned, did laundry, did our ironing & prayed. And prayed. And prayed. Rosie & her mom were my life line many days. When they were done praying, I found myself filled with renewed faith. All anxiety & doubt banished. Early that fall, Pete & Rosie came over to share with us that they were moving back to the Carolina’s where they had come from. They could not adjust to life in Massachusetts. They prayed with us one last time before heading back. No sooner than Rosie had said, “Amen” than she announced, “It’s a boy.” She continued…..”You will have a son. And he will be born. While praying I saw you holding him for his baby dedication.” She was filled with a faith & declared, “No matter what happens in the remaining months of your pregnancy, no matter what the doctor says, the baby will be born. A son.”
Those words got me through many times of anxiety & fear. When either of those emotions pressed in, I remembered Rosie’s prayer & words. Anxiety & fear would flee.
Here is what I learned…..
We need each other. Actually, we need the prayers of one another. I have remained grateful for the prayers of many over the years in my life. We need people around us that can pray with faith & expectancy. We need their words & the Scriptures they speak to us to infuse us with courage to press on. We need the faith of others when we are holding onto our own faith by a thread.
Today when I played the game, This Time Twenty Six Years Ago…..I remembered the truth that was ingrained on my heart & mind—–
The earnest prayer of a righteous person has great power and produces wonderful results.
(James 5:16 NLt)
And by the way….I did have a son 🙂
Today I am linking with Grace Laced Mondays and Making Your Home Sing and The Alabaster Jar and The Better Mom and Inspire Me Monday and Hear It, Use It and What Joy Is Mine and Sharing His Beauty and Playdates With God and The Modest Mom .