The story of R began some time in March 2015 in the form of 2 lines on a stick. It was my 5th pregnancy and I was not in a hurry to find out, and I eventually obtained a stick complimentary of a dear sister's colleague's leftover stock. Pregnancy confirmation was pretty straightforward after 4 times; I didn't quite need a stick to get me going to secure an appointment with my obs/gyn.
We had opted not to do an invasive test even though I would have been past 35 by the time I delivered, nevertheless on a regular appointment, the scan showed a thick nuchal fold and a very flat nasal bridge, all signs pointing to a possible chromosomal issue with the baby. On the very same day, our very objective and skilful doctor extracted placental tissue to send to the labs to find out more. I felt like an old timer doing the Chorionic Villus Sampling for the second time. It took another 2 weeks of monologue with Him before the nerves were settled.
But roller coaster rides do not just treat you to one downhill thrill. A scan just before we left for a vacation trip in Aug showed water in her tummy (yes, hers, not mine), and we were told to come back after the vacation to see if the water has resolved on its own. Now, of course the water did not go away in the next appointment. And after another 2 weeks of waiting it out, the decision was made to do a fetal paracentesis, in short, to poke a needle through my tummy, through whatever is covering her, then through her tummy to draw out the water (I know, that's why I always say my gynae is damn sart). There would be a small chance of a preterm delivery triggered by the procedure but praise God we were not blessed with any surprises. Post procedure scans made my gynae very happy. 'She looks so good'. Cue broad smile.
We had an induced labour at week 39 due to low amniotic fluids. Déjà vu again. Crossed my fingers that since her journey has been so similar to T's, that she will be as sweet as korkor. On Day Two of her life, the paediatrician ordered a kidney ultrasound when she had not yet peed. On the morning of Day Three that we were due to be discharged, the paed had both good news and bad news for me: ‘The good news is we probably know why she had water in her tummy during the pregnancy. The bad news is you got to just trust me on this and go straight to NUH now.’
NUH became our home for the next 3 weeks. Initially only a week’s stay to diagnose and get her weight back on track before we can go home turned out to be a 3-week stay after she kena an MRSA infection from her IV drip and we had to prolong the stay by another 2 weeks to clear it out via antibiotics on drip. The darkness that loomed in the first few hours and days that we were there still plagues me at times. I often comb through my mind on the moments and uncertainties that awaited us in the first few hours at the A&E, the worrying tone in the nurse when R only weighed in at 2.2kg - down from her birth weight of 2.7kg; to grudgingly yet resignedly accepting the fact that we wouldn’t be able to go home that night. And of course the overwhelming sadness that blanketed us when the paediatric nephrologist explained her condition. We broke down openly, and grieved immensely deep inside us many times over. After so many difficult pregnancies, God still did not let us off.
He was with us when we had to do the CVS again; He was also there in the OT when our obs/gyn poked the needle through me and her and made sure she would be safe in there till she’s due; He knew what was wrong with R but did not reveal it to us until she was safely out, and made sure she was well protected by guiding our pediatrician to order for a kidney ultrasound. He was there when she got infected by MRSA and ensured that even though the antibiotics could have done further damage to her kidneys, it didn’t. He gave me the extended 2 weeks to stay in the hospital so that I could recover from my still raw emotions instead of driving myself into a desperate corner at home with 2 other older children to care for. He knew my fears when the doctors had suspicions that she might have an underlying genetic condition. He heard my cries when I pleaded for Him to not allow R to suffer hearing loss. All these time, while we were in the midst of it all, dealing with the crises that came one after another, He was there all along, and never once let us go. I can’t even begin to imagine how we could have lived through the torrents of fears, fears and more fears without Him.
If my miracle boy was the ultimate testimony that God hears, the story of R is one that tells of a faithful and unfailing God who will, in spite of any situation and condition, protect and guard His sheep with grace and mercy.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.
He leadeth me besides clear waters. He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in paths of righteousness for his namesake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil. My cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord, forever.
Psalm 23
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