Seeing him struggle and cry was a huge shocker for me. I barely was coherent to read the paperwork the nurse thrust in front of me and sign. It bothered me that I had to fill out all this paperwork as my newborn son was just a few feet away struggling to live in a new environment.
The emergency Cesarean at 28 weeks was successful. My wife was recovering in her hospital room. My son was getting all the treatment he required. God-willing, he would live for the next few days. I knew that each day he lived meant that he was more likely to survive this. And if he thrived afterwards, all the better.
Then the ventilator had to be put in him. Apparently his lungs weren’t as developed as doctors had hoped. After visiting him one more time, sedated with needles going everywhere and a tube down his throat, I went home. My other son was with his grandparents and I was alone.
I did the only thing I could: I prayed. I prayed to the God of the living that he would live. He was violently ripped too early from his mother’s womb in order to save his life and I prayed that this would not be in vain. I prayed that his lungs would develop and heal, his kidneys would work as expected, and everything else would be operating as they should.
And God answered those prayers in the affirmative. After a day and half, he was back on the SiPAP device, which he would have for four weeks. Soon, all the needles were removed and he was left with a SiPAP, a feeding tube, and some monitors for his vitals.
When we transferred him to a closer hospital, a doctor who worked at both mentioned that he was a miracle baby.
I confess that the miracle was God’s alone. The God of the living, of the resurrection of the dead, and of creation itself saw fit to ensure that my son now lives.
Of all the people, of all the things He could concern Himself with, He breathed life into my son and ensured that he did not die.
I know that God doesn’t always intervene in our lives but I tell you it doesn’t hurt to ask. I am not a deeply prayerful man myself. I try to do it regularly but I am more inclined to read the Bible and leave it at that.
But when I prayed in my desperate hours, He answered. And while things haven’t worked out exactly as I have wanted, my son lives.
As does His.