I praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvelous are thy works and that my soul knoweth right well ~ Psalm 139:14
I have seen God twice. First, when I gave birth (and I was convinced I was knockin’ on heaven’s door). And second, when our baby was close to death.
The neurologist says there was nothing we could have done differently that would have changed the outcome. And that the pediatrician probably saved her life.
The head doctor paints a grim picture. Bacterial meningitis, undetectable, perhaps, because of that first course of antibiotics. They were prescribed for what we thought was a sore throat.
Stroke. She says when you look at all the test results holistically, it seems to indicate that her brain was deprived of oxygen, affecting the right side of her body.
And then the good news: 80% recovery rate. Due to her age, her brain is able to heal itself and with a little physio, she should make a full recovery.
But in 24 hours, our hope was renewed. The physio came again today. She says she will have to rewrite her report after seeing all the improvements baby has been making.
An example, I allow her to feed herself (especially now that she has to relearn all those fine motor skills). She dipped her right finger in some yoghurt, grabbed that wrist with the left and guided her finger into her mouth.
And then she drew. Sitting up, she held the crayon with her right hand a drew the most beautiful black squiggly lines I have ever seen. I just stood there crying.
I said to my husband, it feels like we squeezed a lifetime into one week. Our baby fought off three viruses and a possible bacterial meningitis. She survived a stroke (although the MRI would tell us more). We will never know exactly what she went though, but that she was more than equal to the task cannot be gainsaid.
I gave birth to a miracle. It continues to unfold before our very eyes.