The story I am sharing today is not my own. But my friend has given me permission to write it. It's a wonderful story about a real life miracle...
A dear friend and her husband were told not long ago by a leading fertility specialist there was little to no hope they would ever conceive. Through any means. A 5% chance. And, if somehow they did, there was only a 1% chance my friend would be able to carry a pregnancy to term.
They struggled to accept that news.
Then one day my friend was walking through the park, and she began to bleed heavily from the vagina. So heavily she was rushed to the hospital. It is standard procedure to perform pregnancy tests on women coming in to the ER, I believe. Hers was positive.
With the amount of blood she was losing, they concluded my friend was having a miscarriage.
Imagine the emotions she must have gone through in that moment. She had been told she would not get pregnant. Then in one instant she found out she had been but was losing her baby.
She was in shock.
My friend had experienced many of the classic signs of pregnancy leading up to this event. But it never occurred to her that is what it could be. It didn't even occur to her own OB/GYN. She had been referred to a specialist to explore potential food allergies (mainly for fatigue and nausea).
A miracle had occurred. But that was little comfort.
Her emotional roller coaster continued when an ultrasound revealed a baby measuring 12 weeks - and very much alive. She was still pregnant. The u/s also revealed a large blood clot located between the uterine wall and the placenta. Doctors informed her it was very likely she would lose the baby.
My friend was placed on complete bedrest. Referred to a high risk pregnancy specialist. Things were tenuous for some time. She was monitored closely. She and her husband were guarded, not wanting to get their hopes up only to have their hearts broken. They took things one day at a time.
It would be months before they would allow themselves to actually think about the potential for their hope to be realized. But things began to look up. The blood clot was shrinking. The baby was thriving. My friend was given permission to engage in light activity (as in, get out of bed and move around the house).
She hired a doula and began to prepare for the birth.
I thought about her constantly throughout the pregnancy, and prayed every day. But somehow, I just knew deep inside God meant for her to have this baby. Her being pregnant was a miracle, and I truly believed there was only one possible ending to this story.
A happy one.
This week - one year almost to the day she was told it wouldn't happen - my dear friend gave birth to a baby boy. Both had a bit of a rough time following the delivery (blood loss for her, breathing issues for him), but are doing well now. I don't think I have ever been so happy for the arrival of any baby other than my own.
Miracles do happen.