It was one of those things that you really don’t like to hear – didn’t want to hear.
The light in the small room was dimmed so that the ultrasound technician could see the screen better. With Margie lying on her back right next to the machine there was no way she could see the monitor. I guess the doctors got tired of women twisting their neck around to see what was going on, so they mounted a good sized TV on the wall where Margie could see everything the technician was seeing.
As a registered nurse, Margie knew what he was seeing before he handed over the bad news.
Marginal placenta previa.
Since Margie was only in her 20th week, the tech said that there was a good chance the placenta would move up as the baby grew and developed. Still, there was just as likely a chance that it would continue to slide down – which would mandate a c-section… an experience Margie did not want to have. The risks were even higher considering that one of her sisters had the same thing, and it DID move down and she DID have a c-section.
We came home that afternoon and sat all the children down to explain things to them. As a family, through previous experiences we had learned the power of prayer. So, we decided to include a sincere petition in all of our family and meal-time prayers that the Lord would help that slippery placenta move up and not down.
So, over the next 15 weeks adult voices and young voices and tiny little toddler voices rose to heaven eagerly pleading and begging the creator of Heaven and Earth to just help that placenta move up. Some of the children never quite got the name of it right – “Please help the macenas move” or “Please bless the bamestar to go away”.
Well, even if they didn’t get the request right, these 3 and 5 year old boys of ours got spirit of it all right. They love their momma with all their precious little hearts and they really, really wanted her to be healthy and strong and safe.
Most inspiring to me, was the unwavering and consistent faith of all 6 of our children (Mary, our seventh, is still a wee too young to talk, but I’m sure she has great faith too!). In every prayer, in every situation, they ALWAYS remembered to ask God to help their dear momma.
The day of the second ultrasound came and found our family kneeling in the front room with me, once again, lifting my voice to Heavenly Father. Please, please, bless my dear wife and the wonderful mother of these sweet children.
We returned from that visit with hearts lifted and souls satisfied. God had heard our prayers and, at least for the time being, all was well with Margie and the baby – the placenta had moved.
Now, some may say that it was coincidence, it would have moved all on its own. Maybe. But if you had been there and heard those tender voices and heard the love they have for their mother… and if you had been in our home on the day that we returned from the second visit to the ultrasound tech and seen the sublime joy and happiness in their eyes as we told them the placenta had moved… and if you had felt the intense feelings of peace that came over all of us BEFORE we went to the doctor… then, I bet, like us, you would be compelled to acknowledge that there is a God, and He does answer prayers.
There is a wonderful – though scary and nerve wracking – sequel to this story and how Sariah Marjorie Boswell came to our home….