Tuesday, February 2, 2010


I will forever be Pro-Baby.
No eloquent or winning argument could ever sway me to the other side.
I know what life is. I have seen it at it's tiniest stage.

When we learned that our 4th baby had died and had died many weeks before, it became imperative to get that baby out of my body. So, I began taking herbal tinctures, strong, nasty tasting brews that I had to chase down with juice. A few days passed, nothing. The clock was ticking and the longer that baby stayed inside, the higher my chances for infection were.

I remember wishing, longing for the baby to just come out. I would dream of getting to see it, hold it, wrap it in a little towel. That may seem morbid, but the desire burned within me. So much so that any thought of being forced to have a D&C would send me into chills.

Then the dreaded happened.
They told me to watch for a fever... I got one.
I knew deep down that it was just a cold, my daughter had a fever a couple days before, but now there was no choice for me. Everyone was playing it safe. We had to go to the hospital.

In the ER, the doctor told us that the D&C was scheduled for the morning. I asked if we could see the baby. The doc said the "fetus" would look like a gray and pink mass, and the hospital would keep it for testing.

"WHAT?!!" I said!
"I want to see my baby."

I was told that even if the baby was intact inside me, the procedure would tear it up.
So we prayed.

They decided to try misoprostol through the night which would induce labor and possibly allow my body to release the baby. It did bring on contractions but after they subsided, I knew it hadn't worked. The procedure was looming.

That was when I lost it. I had so hoped and prayed to see that little babe, scared though I was to. Now it seemed as though I would just have to let go. Carter and I had some time where we just released the baby. We named it. We prayed. We cried.

I saw myself on the verge of darkness. I could see the depression and despair and knew I could let myself be swallowed by it... but God. He in His mercy led me away from the edge of the pit. Peace enfolded me.

It was midnight when I got up to use the restroom and when I turned around to see, I saw her.


Even the doctor (the one in the ER) was in awe. She said she had only seen this happen one other time. The baby was perfect.
We have a BIG God who cares about little people and the little details of our lives!

Why am I telling you all this?
Maybe I'm Johnny Come Lately, but I just learned that misoprostol is used alongside the abortion pill RU-486. And the Planned Parenthood 3 minutes up the street gives both out to girls up to 9 weeks pregnant.
If only they could see what I saw.

In 15 days, I will be joining with thousands of others in praying against abortion.
40 Days for Life is rallying people nationwide to pray beginning February 17th.
We are waging a war here and I am not going to sit idly by! I'll fight on my knees.

I love life! I love the little lives that I get to hold and see grow. I cherish them deeply.
Don't ask me if I'm done having children yet. Maybe I want to counteract, by the tiniest percentage, the 50 million babies that have been aborted.

Lord, forgive us.


SuperDave said...


Caring said...

If you really want to see the problems Misoprostol can cause go to my website and look. http://www.thecloudwalker.net/andrew Andrew was born on Feb. 2, 2005 and lived for only 7 days. He died was the result of Misoprostol being used to induce my labor and a doctor who failed to see or act upon the warning signs.

I too believe that each child is a gift from God. If someone does not want the child they are pregnant with, I will be happy to take them. So would so many other families! May God bless you in your journey!