Do you believe in miracles?
I do because I’m a living witness!
Precisely, it was 7 years ago that I conceived and gave birth to my son, Ryan, in Brunei. It was an incredible experience for me, considering the chain of events that follows before and immediately after Ryan’s birth. Today, each time I set my eyes on Ryan and remember the past, I knew deep down that God has given me a living miracle, for which I just cannot stop thanking Him enough. So I’m here to share the testimony with you and to encourage you to trust in miracles.
A birth characterised with pains
Ryan’s birth was one laden with different challenges. From the moment he proceeded from the womb, he was faced with myriad health issues—from loss of blood to a fragile-looking appearance, Ryan’s birth was one that evokes sorrow, pity, and heartbreak. It was a pain to behold my child looking extremely pale, with no respiration and no heart rate, to say the least. His birth carries a preterm ranging 35/40, with an equally fragile weight measuring 2.46Kg.
Ryan’s birth and chances of survival were so dire that the only way the physicians could bring him forth was through suction, after which he was given both bags and mask ventilation, all to no avail. Doctors immediately swing into action by intubating the child and utilising continuous pressure ventilation; still, there was no response. The doctors took it a step further by performing a cardiac comprehension on him, together with a dose of adrenaline, but Ryan remains unresponsive to all medical efforts and his health continue to defy every attempt made to keep him alive.
Not to be undone by such a rare predicament, the doctors went ahead to insert Umbilical Venous Catheter with another two doses of Adrenaline, then followed by a chest comprehension, and for the first time, Ryan’s heart rate responded with a gasp of breath that ranges 25 minutes old.
Looking back now, I felt relieved and lucky to have had such a wonderful and dedicated team of doctors, specialist and nurses who (with God’s hand by my side) fought resiliently to revive the child.
It wasn’t until when a specialist brought Ryan and showed him to me for an abrupt moment before he was transferred to NICU that I learned of the intense battle fought to save the child’s life. The doctor narrated Ryan’s condition to me and the war they fought to save his life, sending me into a speechless and complete state of shock. My fear and utter disbelief was amplified when the doctor advised me to prepare for the worse as my baby’s condition was not looking good. They suspect he might have severe brain damage or organ failure due to the trauma that he went through at birth.
There is no greater pain than seeing my newborn baby heavily hooked up to machines and struggling hard to breathe. I was forced to ask myself, “What has he done to deserve all this?” It was a life-shattering ordeal and I was completely broken from the inside to the outside, with rivers of tears flowing down my helpless cheeks.
As I lay back on my hospital bed, feeling bewildered and worn out, that innate spiritual personality was awoken, and for the first time while in the hospital, I called out to God for help, knowing that He is the giver of life, the author and finisher of our faith. I summoned the courage and prayed earnestly for my child every second, and every minute I could. As a spiritually minded person, I have faith in karma, I believe in miracles.
God to the rescue: there is a miracle in hoping
Yes, my faith in miracles has always been a tenacious and unwavering type, no matter the storm that rages against me. I may bend but never break; such is the tenacity that underlines my faith. In fact, prior to the birth of Ryan, I did encounter similar challenges before I got pregnant. I suffered from multiple cyst and fibroids that declared my uterus and bladder their place of dwelling. These conditions necessitated me to undergo a major surgical operation to remove the illegal occupants, and with God standing by my side all through the process, the surgery was successfully performed. Then I just turned 36, and one fateful day when I visited my gynaecologist, I was informed that the right side of my fallopian tube is blocked and I could only depend on the other side of the fallopian tube to conceive.
At that point, I felt so devastated and completely miserable on hearing the news about my chances of conception. I thought I was never going to have babies of my own anymore. In fact, the mere thought of it completely dissected my faith in womanhood and filled me with sorrows. But the good man above that calls those things that are not as though they were proved to me just how wrong I was in my faithless conclusions.
Miracles do happen, and that’s one ace I will forever keep up my faith sleeve! A year later, I conceived and gave birth to my first daughter. It was the greatest and most celebrated moment in my life. Hardly had the drumbeats of joy, in the following year, I again conceived and brought forth my son, Ryan.
Knowing before now that I would be having a man-child, the excitement doubles and I was looking forward to that day with bated breath of bliss—longing to hold him in my arms.
Now, the D-day came, and Ryan was born, but things didn’t work out as expected. Ryan’s birth was immensely complicated and he went through a lot of traumatic experience. There was no night that went by without I visiting the hospital where he lay helplessly; and whenever I visit, I would whisper in his ears and say, “You are my hero, baby, a fighter you are, and you are going to do mummy proud. Surely, you will recover soon.”
I called out to God in prayers every night. During those times, I find it very difficult to sleep at night when Ryan was lying in the hospital. As a matter of fact, there was never a night that went by with a good sleep without thinking of Ryan. In my prayers, I pleaded with God for forgiveness. I asked God to bless Ryan and not to take him away from me. At a point, I promised God that I would do anything in God’s will just to have my son back. It was a period of desperation, but I knew deep down that God alone have the power to take and make alive. Yes, I did ask God to give me a hint or show me a sign regarding what he wants me to do in exchange or in payment for the life of Ryan. Of course, I never did receive any signs nor dreams, but I knew that one thing God wants me to do is to hope continuously and help others as well.
There is the saying that healing is a gradual process, and this much is true when after 7 years, Ryan started growing up gradually but remarkably, metamorphosing into a normal and healthy child. Every change brought immense joy to my heart, and even members of the hospital staff can’t help but thank God for such a miracle. Just when you think all hope is lost, here comes the God of wonders doing what He alone knows how to do—working miracles. I thank God daily for this gift, and I’ve not forgotten my promise to Him.
Spurred on my miracles to do God a service
Two years ago, I started a journey in nursing as soon as Ryan began his schooling. The untold and invaluable miracles God did for me and Ryan was what inspired me to embark on my nursing journey. Since then, I have been making regular donations from a small part of my monthly wages to a children cancer institute and other charity organisations. I also worked part-time in a nursing home to help the elderly, even as I want to do as much as I can to offer my help now that I’m still capable.
Without controversy, miracles are real, and my son, Ryan is a living testimony—a miracle boy. Believe me, dear readers; if God could be so faithful to perform these miracles in my life, it can as well happen to anyone, especially you.
Do not give up hope. Stay strong. I believe things happen for a reason. Just believe and wait patiently for it.
Sending love and light,