Jesus Is Lord of the Doctors

JESUS is LORD of The Doctors

By Bridget Molloy

Do miracles exist you say? Well, after May 2^nd 1995, I never doubted that miracles do indeed exist. Here’s my proof.

I checked into the hospital around 12:00 a.m. My water had broken at home, which meant I had to be induced to keep away a possible infection therefore, my son needed to be delivered within a twelve hour window.

When my son was born at 8:38 a.m. I sensed that something was not quite right. He came out extremely purple, I mean really purple. The nurses handed him to me and he was lethargic. He was not interested in nursing he seemed too exhausted; one of the nurses gave him some oxygen, immediately his skin became pink.

My husband had video taped the first 1½ hours of his birth, before the nightmare began. A nurse took my newborn son from my warm, loving arms of security and whisked him away. As she set him in water to bathe him, his heart started beating out of his chest like crazy, I had never seen anything like it in my whole life.

Next thing I knew, my son was shuffled out of the labor-delivery room and my husband followed close behind the nurses. I was not told what was wrong with my less than 2-hour old baby, a breakfast tray was being brought in when all I wanted to know is what was wrong with my son, and where they were taking him?

I was sent to the second level of the hospital where a new mother stays in a cozy room with baby until the day they are discharged and are ready to go home, and visitors are welcome. I was alone, in pain from an episiotomy, and I needed to get rid of breast milk and still didn’t know where my baby was.

I tried to be brave, as I went down the list of family and friends in my phone book that I needed to call. At first I gave out the usual information, what time he was born, how much he weighed, how long he was, and who he looked like. I couldn’t hold back the tears as I said, by the way, please pray for my baby boy, he was taken out of my room and I think he’s very sick.

My friends from church, kept an upbeat tone in their voice as they encouraged me to keep the faith and ensured me that GOD was in control, not a panel of doctors or nurses.

After four hours of waiting for some answers, I saw my husband approaching my room, his face was red and he was crying. My first thought was my baby is dead. My husband was an unemotional man who had never cried during our entire marriage. A doctor was walking behind him and spoke as he walked through my door,

“Do not be alarmed by your husband’s tears. Your son is stable right now, we have him on a machine that is breathing for him and he has a 50-50 chance of living”.

The on-call doctor, (who was not the pediatrician I had chosen for my new baby), told me they had taken x-rays of my sons’ chest, and they found an unidentified spot on one of his lungs, they don’t know what caused it or what it is, but will retake x-rays in three days.

I was forced to check out of the hospital the next day with nothing in my arms to take home except a few flowers and some balloons. I set my alarm and expressed my milk every four hours, so that as soon as my son was able to eat, my milk would be the first thing that he tasted.

When I was awake, I called the NICU nursery to see if my son was still breathing and got familiar with the nurses on every shift. He had not been given any fluids for days, so he caught jaundice and had to be put under special lights to take away the yellowed skin.

Every night after dinner when my husband came home from work, we went to the hospital to visit our son Nick. There he was lying lifeless in an incubator, eyes closed and he didn’t even know we existed. I tried not to cry as I looked down on him. I clung to the hope of a possible prophecy.

My friend, Pam, said she was watching T.V. and this music video came on showing a hospital nursery full of infants in glass beds. One of the infants was extremely premature and sick. In this video an angel came down from heaven and spread its wings around the baby. When the angel placed his wings back down on its sides the sick baby was made well and healthy.

Pam believed in her heart that this was a sign from God that my son Nick was going to be made well. The next day when I went to visit my son in the hospital I was told by the NICU nurses that new X-rays had been taken and the spot that had been on my son’s lung was now completely gone.

The doctors had no explanation and were completely in awe. At four days, I was able to hold my son and start to feed him. Six days later I brought him home. At three months old, six months old, nine months old, and one year old a social worker came to my house to check his development.

This year in 2006 in the month of April, my son Nick turned eleven years old. God gave him a clean bill of health and he runs, jumps, and plays like a regular boy. Unlike his father who had asthma, my son is free and clear of all respiratory illnesses.

When people say they don’t believe in miracles, I know beyond a shadow of doubt that my son is a walking, talking, miracle.

Praise God!