I remember praying those words back in April 2010. Before I continue I must warn you that this is not the edited version so it WILL BE LONG. I am not going to use any names, fictitious or real so bare with me.
My son turned 7 weeks on the Wednesday and I took him for a well visit the Friday. Everything was great. The Sunday my husband, son and I went by my mother for lunch. I liked going there because it was a time to relax, get pampered and let my family dote over the new baby.
In the evening around 4pm I was changing my son’s diaper and I noticed that his urine smelled foul and was slightly discoloured. So I waited for the room to clear of my family and I softly told my husband that I though our son had a UTI; if I had said it around my family they would have panicked My husband and I talked and then decided that we would wait until the Monday to take him to his pediatrician but if he got a fever we would take him to the hospital.
So we went home, and survived the night, with me getting only a few hours rest, which was broken up into a few minutes sleeping, then up checking my son’s temperature, breathing etc.
In the morning we called the pediatrician’s office but we were told she would not be in until 11am, but the secretary contacted her and told her our concern. She the called us back and told us to come to the office at 11 am. So my husband and I prayed and he was about to go to work when the secretary called again and told us to go the the hospital and our pediatrician would meet us there.
So off we went, but she was not there and we met and old school mate who contacted our pediatrician assessed our case and sent some junior doctors to take a urine sample. Boy did that urine smell foul and it was really opaque; there was no doubt that he had a uti. Our former school mate then came and told us that our son had to be admitted for the day to start him on IV antibiotics so off we went to the nursery.
At midday I went to have some lunch and gave my husband strict orders to call me if anything was up. When I eating my lunch (well really wolfing it down) this older lady came in and asked how the baby was doing and when he was. I told her he was in the nursery with his dad. She told me not to rush off but to take time to relax because I looked extremely tired and worried, and I really was so I took her advice.
After being in there for about and hour I went back to the nursery and as soon as I turned into the door I noticed that my son was moaning. I asked my husband how long it was going on and he said for almost the entire hour!!! “What!! Why didn’t you call me?!” I did not listen for his answer but just told him that something is wrong and I would go and get a doctor.
I went to the nurses’ station and told them what the matter was to which one of the nurses as me if this was my first child. How did that have any bearing on what I was saying? I went back to the nursery and 5 minutes passed and nothing so I returned to the nurses’ station, a few minutes more and still nothing. Then my husband went and this time a nurse came to “have a look” and we were told, “he is just exercising his voice.” I smile to myself as I remember those words. What madness were we told?? A young male doctor FINALLY came to us after more than 1 hour. By this time he was VERY lethargic- he could barely smile, and if you know my son he was smiling from 2 days old and just so happy. But to our dismay, the doctor “oh look he gave me a smile. He probably is just exercising his voice”. sigh.
Well the groaning continued, and so did our prayers. Our former school colleague was actually working in the PICU but had only assessed our case because she knew us so we could not even get her.
Then I took our son to breastfeed him and he was roasting. My husband was so furious at our treatment that I told him I would go to the nurses station, because I knew he was in no state of mind to talk to them. A different nurse came to us this time, but by this time I had resumed nursing him, all the while our prayers still continued.
Let me just stop here to say that we really learned the value of praying, saw that power of prayer, through this experience. And we are glad that we sought God because little did we know what was to come.
Well the nurse touched his forehead and hands and said they felt fine to her and “maybe he only feels hot to you because you are holding him”. She left without even taking his temperature.
Our prayers continued and around 4pm the pediatrician came to check on him. She asked how he was doing and I told her “he is roasting with fever, and he has been moaning for hours and he is very listless and no one is taking us on.” She simply said “I don’t like how he looks. This is not the same baby I saw on Friday.” She then asked if his vitals were taken and I said no. Well, the last nurse who had come to us was there and she offered to take them (at that time and not before??) but the offer was declined.
The pediatrician left and returned with the male doctor, the head nurse, the two nurses who came to us and did nothing and she questioned the doctor about his procedures while she was taking our son’s vitals.
His temperature was 106.3 and his breathing was extremely rapid. She told us to come quickly because he had to go the the PICU. When we got there it was our pediatrician, our former school mate, the male doctor and the PICU nurses all rushing around dealing with our son. We tried to move out of the way but everything was frantic that a nurse ushered us outside to wait.
That wait seemed like an eternity. But we just kept praying, praying!! Finally the pediatrician came out and told us a bit of what was going on and she told us the other doctor, our school mate, would give us more details. When we finally went in he was hooked up to the heart monitor, oxygen, his blood pressure and oxygen levels were being monitored, an IV was up…so you could imagine that there were wires and tubes everywhere!! “Dear Lord, please don’t let my son die…” That was part of my prayer and the most often repeated part.
Well night came and my husband had to leave at 9pm and I was alone with our son. The machines kept alarming, and I kept watching them and praying. Well at 11pm one of the nurses came and said “Mummy hold your baby”. What!!! Why was she telling me this!!!!
I held him and really prayed to God to keep him alive..”Please God, please God, don’t let my baby die!” I pleaded.
At around 2:30am I started to really drift off into sleep and I quickly jumped up and called the nurse. I told her I wanted to put him down because I was afraid I might fall asleep and he would fall and she said “No you can’t put him down.” She positioned me in the chair so that he could not possibly fall if I fell asleep. And I say if because all sleep went from me after she told me I could not put him down. “Why did she say that? Dear Lord please, please!! Don’t let him die!!!”
I remember the prayers I prayed and the commitment I made to return him to God if he live, and my belief that he was to live to be a blessing to others…
Through it all I can definitely say that beyond a shadow of a doubt that God’s hand was guiding in this whole situation. My son is safe, healthy, happy and loving God and I see, my family sees God’s goodness and power.
God IS good. He IS the best and He stepped in when everything seemed to be going horribly wrong, and HE SAVED MY SON.
But as I type this I am reminded that not only did He save him that day in April 2010, but long ago in eternity His Son decided to save not only my son BUT EVERYONE that should believe on Him, and that saving is not just simple in this life, but He saved us from eternal death!!! Oh what a wonderful God is He!! That is why we can trust, and serve Him, because we KNOW He loves us and wants to take us home with Him where there will be no need for doctors because there will be “ no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.” Rev 21:4
Thank you God for my son and for Your Son!
This post was shared on