The Puzzle of Elijah

“If you don’t feel that you have done anything wrong before God, stop asking for forgiveness,” the Pastor Ivan said. “Praise God for everything He is doing, even for what you don’t understand today. The Bible says that everything comes from God and nothing is done without His will. It was His will to give you an ill baby. Maybe God is preparing you for something. He may do His work through you. Praise God for everything and be patient. It will not last forever. Usually, the sun comes out after a thunderstorm!”

This unexpected word of encouragement strengthened our belief that everything comes from God. Although we did not understand everything, we felt relieved after our conversation with Pastor Ivan. We thanked God that he inspired us and poured in us a positive energy. It's like he gave us life back. In our tormented heart God's peace appeared again, which is above all our thoughts and doubts.

…….

In those days, our church fought for us in prayers. We also turned to different churches and asked them to pray for God to heal our baby. Once young people from a neighboring city came and gave us the prophetic word that they received in a prayer about our situation. It was said that our son will be healed in the mother’s womb! With tears of joy we thanked God. We believed in prophecies and it was what we wanted to hear…

…….

A month after my appointment with the high-risk Obstetrician/Gynecology specialist, I saw a cardiologist. Oleg came with me. We were hopeful that the change would be positive, but the echocardiogram showed no improvement. Our son would still need all the surgeries and spend his early life in the hospital.

“I would recommend you consider an abortion,” said the cardiologist. “The surgery is very complicated, and your baby may not even survive.”

The cardiologist gave us time to think and left the room. She was the third specialist who had recommended abortion. Oleg and I sat hand in hand. I didn’t want our baby to go through the surgery, and I didn’t want him to die either. I knew the abortion was same as killing a person. I couldn’t stop our son’s life.

“We believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and He will help us,” Oleg said. “There is no way we will do an abortion.”

When the cardiologist came back, we told her our decision and left the hospital. On our way home, we prayed and wondered when God was going to step in and heal our baby. Our faith gave us hope.

Every month we met with the same cardiologist and had echocardiograms, which showed that the problems with our baby’s heart were still there. As the fetus grew older, the option of an abortion would no longer exist. This didn’t matter because we weren’t willing to consider an abortion. Every time, the doctors were telling us how severe our baby’s heart defects were, Oleg and I loved our expected son more and more. We still had that hope that God would heal him.

…….

A normal pregnancy is forty weeks. Unfortunately, at twenty-six weeks, my blood sugar started rising. I developed Gestational Diabetes and didn’t look or feel healthy at all.

“Olga, you need to start eating healthy,” the doctor said. “I will refer you to a dietitian, who will tell you which diet to follow. Olga, you also need to start pricking your finger three times daily to check your blood sugar. I am afraid you may need to start insulin shots soon.”

“I can poke my finger and check the sugar level, but I am so scared of insulin shots. I promise I will do everything possible to keep my blood sugar level in control,” I said.

I have never had Diabetes. I was young and thought it only happened to old people. A week later, my blood sugar was still very high. The idea of shots scared me. I couldn’t imagine giving myself a shot, so I tried even harder to eat healthy. Luckily, my blood sugar level dropped to an acceptable range.

At twenty-eight weeks, my blood pressure began to rise, and I started to retain water. My body seemed to fill up like a balloon, which made me even more uncomfortable. I had a doctor’s visit again.

“Olga, I am worried that you may develop preeclampsia. We may need to hospitalize you,” the doctor said.

“What is preeclampsia?” I asked. “How can I develop it?”

“It is a serious condition, characterized by high blood pressure and protein in the urine. It occurs when the placenta starts functioning improperly. This condition can cause respiratory problems and restriction of your baby’s growth. It can also damage your liver and kidneys. The only cure for preeclampsia is to deliver the baby early.”

“Our baby is sick and now my life and health is in danger? But, there is no way you can hospitalize me. My children need me at home.”

“I hope we don’t have to hospitalize you, but time will tell,” the doctor said.

How do you believe the doctors if you feel fine? In truth, I tried to rationalize the problem away. At home, I tried harder to rest and follow the doctor’s directions, hoping that my blood pressure would not rise.

…….

A week later, I developed a bad headache and just felt awful. I drove to my Mom’s house to check my blood pressure on her machine. It was 167/107. Normal is 120/80. At that time, I was thirty-two years old and had no idea that those numbers were very high for anyone, much less for a pregnant woman. My Mom worried and told me to call the doctor. I called and spoke with a nurse.

“Olga, lay on the left side for one hour and check again,” the nurse instructed. “If the blood pressure does not decrease, go to the emergency room immediately. From such high blood pressure, your baby might die any minute, or you might have a stroke.”

I laid on my left side for an hour. How do you stay calm when you are worried? I didn’t know. I tried, but my blood pressure did not decrease. Oleg came home from work. He and I left the children at my Mom’s house and went to the Southwest Washington Medical Center (SWMC) in Vancouver. After six hours at the hospital, the doctor prescribed me medications to lower my blood pressure and let me go home.

The next day, I was okay and just rested. The following morning my blood pressure was high again, so I called the nurse.

“Olga, get to the hospital as soon as possible because your baby and you can die any minute,” the nurse instructed.

Oleg and I left our three children at my Mom’s house and drove to the Emergency Room. The doctors immediately hospitalized me. They put an IV with medications in my arm to decrease my blood pressure. I felt normal, except for a terrible headache, but what the doctors were telling me made it sound like I was very sick and in a serious trouble.

Oleg stayed with me. He was calm, but worried. Late in the evening, he left to pick up the children and go home. He had to continue caring for our children and supporting our family. I don’t know what he thought or told the children that evening. My Mom told me later that our children were scared and prayed that nothing bad would happen to me and the baby.

…….

My evening at the hospital was quiet. The nurse attached a monitor to my stomach, so the nurse and I could hear my baby’s heartbeat. The medications were working, and my blood pressure decreased slightly. Surprisingly, I was calm and accepted everything as it happened. I now was sure that my life and the life of our unborn son was in danger. I prayed to God for His help. Resting quietly, I read a book and made a few phone calls before I fell asleep.

Luckily, the next morning everything seemed to be okay. I thought I might be able to return home. Unfortunately, a test showed protein in my urine and the doctor said I should stay in the hospital another day. I was really disappointed because my oldest sister Tanya had asked me several months ago to save the date for a baby shower for me that evening. Even though my seven sisters, two sisters-in-law and I knew that our baby was very ill and might not survive, we rarely talked about it. Planning a baby shower for me was a normal process. That is what sisters and friends do for every expectant Mother. Tanya had worked very hard to have a baby shower for me that evening. All the guests were invited. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but now I didn’t think I was going to be able to attend. Surprisingly, later in the day, my blood pressure decreased.

“Olga, I will give you a two-hour pass to go to your baby shower,” the doctor said. “Then you have to come back to the hospital. Be very careful.”

“Thank you!” I exclaimed. “I am so happy you let me go. This means so much to me!”

Maybe the doctor let me go because if she told me I couldn’t go, my blood pressure might rise higher than if I would go. In retrospect, it might seem crazy, but at the time the baby shower was very important to me. Sometimes, we get our priorities mixed up and just do things that in hindsight we would never do.

My friend, Katya, picked me up at the hospital and drove me to the party. The guests were waiting for me at my sister’s house. Her living room was beautifully decorated in lime and brown colors. The sign “It’s a Boy!” hung on the wall and delicious food filled the table. The party was wonderful. My family and friends came to support me. They knew I was ill and they prayed for me. I thanked everyone for coming and told them I had only a two-hour-pass from the doctor. We ate, opened presents and took pictures. My ten-year-old daughter Kristina brought me food, opened the presents for me, and was just happy I was with her. The time flew by quickly.

“Friends, I don’t have time to read your cards,” I said. “But I will read them at the hospital. I promise.”

“It’s okay, Olga. We wish you luck and we will pray for you,” my friends and family answered. They prayed for me. It felt good to be surrounded by loved ones, who wanted our baby to live, and their gifts reflected it.

Happy that I could attend, I returned to the hospital. I was tired and went to bed. The nurse attached the monitor again to my belly. She turned it on every thirty minutes to check the baby’s heartbeat. I felt normal with no pain or headache and fell asleep. At about 11 p.m., a beeping noise woke me up. Frightened, I opened my eyes wide, looked at the monitor and saw that our baby’s heart beat had dropped dramatically from 150 to 56 beats per minute. In panic, I pressed the help button. The nurse ran into my room.

“Olga, turn to your left side!” she instructed.

I did. The baby’s heart beat went up. I calmed down and fell asleep again. In the morning the nurse told me that during the night, my baby’s heart beat had slowed down three more times.

…….

5

Do not be afraid, for God is always with you,

even though you don’t see Him.

The next morning, I called Oleg. This was the first day of school for the new year. Normally, we would drop our children at my Mom’s house. Then the children would ride the school bus to the school near her house and in the afternoon, return for day care. But this year, because of the pregnancy and my plans to stay at home, I had transferred our children to the school nearest our house.

Oleg had no idea what it took to get David, Kristina and Michael ready for school in the morning. I was worried and wanted to know if he had survived, so I called him. He said it was hectic without me at home. He had to get the children ready for school, prepare breakfast and lunch for them, figure out the bus routine and get to work on time. He thought he did okay, but wished I was home to do that. I also wished I had been there to help him, but secretly was glad he now would find out what I did every day.

After talking to Oleg, I sat on my hospital bed and started reading the cards from my baby shower. After reading a few, my eyes paused on the third card:

“How aII the Angels must have smiled

When Jesus chose this newborn Child

For you to love and cuddle, too -

A miracle that's aII for you!”

Tears filled my eyes as I thought, “Why did Jesus choose an ill baby for me?” I felt my baby move… He probably felt my worries and wanted to let me know that everything would be okay.

The doctors came to my room and said, “Olga, it would be better for us to transfer you to Oregon Health and Science University (OHSU) in Portland. They specialize in heart surgeries that your baby would need right after delivery. We worry that your baby might be born early.”

“I still have ten weeks to be pregnant,” I said. “I can’t have my baby today. I just want everything to return to normal and go home.”

“Olga, you will be safer at OHSU. We need your permission to transfer you there.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You can transfer me there.”

I knew it would be best for me and my baby. I called my husband again and told him the news. Then, I got ready for the transfer.

“Riding in an ambulance is a new experience for me. I am scared because I always associated the ambulance with people who had serious medical problems or were dying,” I told the doctor my concern.

“You will be safe,” the doctor assured me. “Everything will be okay.”

“We need you to lay on the stretcher,” the paramedic said.

“I can walk to the ambulance myself,” I answered.

“Olga, it is for your and our safety. You need to lie on the stretcher.”

I did. They wheeled me out through the halls of the hospital. I didn’t look or feel like I was sick. Someone young like me shouldn’t need to be in a stretcher. I was the center of attention and it embarrassed me.

The ride was smooth with no sirens and no flashing lights. Inside the ambulance, my blood pressure increased and the nurse worried. When we arrived at OHSU, the driver wheeled me out from the ambulance. On a stretcher, I met the faces of new doctors, nurses and patients. Again, I could not believe it was me on that stretcher. Embarrassed, I was ready to hide my face under the blanket.

The paramedics took me to the intensive care room of the delivery unit. Two nurses gave me medications, started IVs, measured my blood pressure, and took blood for several tests. Then, the cardiologist, neonatologist and medical students came to introduce themselves.

The cardiologist said, “Olga, we will try to keep you pregnant as long as possible, because it is too early for your baby to be born.”

“I know. I still have ten weeks to be pregnant. I can’t have my baby born today,” I answered, not even thinking of all the things that can really go wrong…

The nurses monitored the baby’s heartbeat. During the day, the monitor would often beep to show that the baby’s heart rate was dropping and then it would recover. I did not know a lot about Preeclampsia and did not ask many questions because the nurses were busy. They were completing doctor’s orders, trying to decide if I should eat or not. I was very hungry, but had to wait and didn’t know why. Later, I understood that they did not want me to eat before the surgery. They were not sure how soon they might have to do the C-section. I was given a shot with steroids, which was supposed to help our baby’s lungs open, in case he was born early.

In the evening, Oleg and the children came to visit me. The children told me about their first day at school and then asked, “How soon you are coming home, Mama?”

“I hope, very soon,” I said.

“Today after work it took me two hours to read all the papers that our children brought from school,” Oleg said. “I had to sign so many of them and wished you were home to do that.”

I just smiled and said, “It is good for you, honey, to see what mothers usually do, all the things which seem to be easy.”

After about an hour, Oleg and the children left for home. Tired, I fell asleep.

…….

Just before midnight, a worried nurse woke me up.

“Olga, your baby’s heart is stopping about every five minutes,” she said. “The doctors are deciding whether to do the C-section or not.”

Frightened and sleepy, I was trying to wake up and realize what was happening. Three doctors walked into my room.

“Why is my baby’s heart stopping every five minutes?” I asked, confused.

“Your high blood pressure and the protein in your urine is causing your baby’s heart to stop,” the first doctor explained. “His heart defect is not the problem. It is you, Olga, who developed not only preeclampsia, but eclampsia, the final and most severe phase. Your placenta started to secrete substances that can cause dysfunction in your blood vessels. You may start having seizures or go into a coma. It also can damage your liver and kidneys. Both you and the baby can die. Basically, your body is killing your baby.”

“Olga, with his heart defect, your baby has less than 1% chance to survive,” added the second doctor. “You have two options. One is to let the nature take its course and let your baby die. We will induce you and remove the baby from your womb without surgery. The second option is to do an emergency C-section. We would not recommend the C-section because it’s a major surgery and your baby has such a small chance to live.”

Even though the doctors had warned me, I didn’t really believe that it would come to this. Let my baby die? What is happening? Where is Oleg? I need his help and support! I thought.

“Do I have time to call my husband?” I asked.

“Yes, you do,” the doctor answered and stepped out to the hall.

I called Oleg and told him as fast as I could, “Our baby’s heart is stopping every 5 minutes. He is dying. The doctors are asking if we should let him die or do an emergency C-section on me. I need you to come to the hospital as soon as possible, please. I will call my Father and ask him to come and spend the night with our children. I will call you back.”

I quickly called my Father and asked if he could spend the night with our children. My Father said he will and promised to pray for us.

I called Oleg back to ask him what to do, but for some reason he didn’t pick up the phone. I tried again. No answer warned me.

“Where is Oleg? Why he doesn’t answer?” I sat on my hospital bed, confused. Every minute counted. I thought to myself, “How can I say, ‘I am willing to let my baby die?’” Even if he has a 1% chance to survive, I should give it to him. The doctors should do the C-section. Even if my baby does not survive, I will have a scar to remember him by. THERE IS GOD IN HEAVEN, WHO GIVES LIFE AND WHO TAKES IT AWAY. I will give my baby all his chances. I know he will live!”

The doctors came back into my room and asked again, “So, Olga, what have you decided?”

“My husband is on his way here,” I answered with a shaky voice. “Please do the C-section. I will give my baby all his chances for life. God will make that final decision about our baby’s life.”

“Are you sure, Olga? This surgery is a major procedure, which we would prefer not to do on you.”

“Yes, I am sure.”

“Would you like us to save your baby when he is born?” the doctor asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked confused.

“Would you like us to let him die or provide him with breathing help and medications for his heart?”

“I would like you to do everything possible to save his life. God will take his life, if it is time, but I will do everything possible to help our son live.”

The doctors were quiet for a minute and then left the room. They knew what I didn’t want to accept. Only later, I realized if they told me that my baby had no chance for life, I would not be asking them to save him. But because they gave him that 1%, I asked them to save him. I knew miracles happen.

After about thirty-five minutes, which seemed an eternity to me, Oleg was finally with me in the room.

“Olga, I am sorry it took me a while to get here,” he said. “The main entrance door of the hospital was locked, so, the security guard had to let me in through the back door.”

Oleg’s face was pale. Only God knows what my husband experienced.

“I have agreed to the surgery. I want to give my baby all his chances for life,” I said with tears.

“Olga, God will help us. No matter what happens, I just need you alive,” Oleg said, hugging me and trying to hold his tears.

That night I turned thirty weeks pregnant; two and a half months early for our baby to be born. The nurses transported me to the operating room, while Oleg had to stay and change into a surgery outfit. Surprisingly, I felt an unusual peace and knew God was with me during that critical time. I felt like He was gently holding me in His hands with His angels surrounding me. I was doing everything possible to give our baby his chance for life and left the final decision up to God. What more could I do?

When Oleg came into the operating room, the doctor had already made the incision cut for the C-section. Oleg told me later that he had seen blood before, but not that much of it. It made him feel sick when he paused and looked at the surgery.

“Sir, please sit down,” the nurse said.

“I am fine,” Oleg answered.

“You have to sit down,” the nurse repeated.

“I am fine,” Oleg answered again.

“Sir, you have to sit down because you can faint from seeing so much blood and we cannot be responsible for you.”

Oleg sat on the chair next to me, hugged me, kissed me on my head and prayed quietly. The surgery went on for about an hour. I could not see anything behind the curtain, just felt the doctors pushing on my stomach. I felt no pain, no fear and did not cry. I didn’t feel like myself. Usually, I would be so scared, but I was calm. I quietly prayed for God to be in charge and for His will to be done. After about ten minutes, the doctor delivered the baby and asked the nurses to take him to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). I could not see the baby or hear him cry. Oleg couldn’t tell if the baby was alive. The doctors continued finishing my surgery.

After the surgery, I was taken to the recovery room for one hour. The nurse gave me medications and made sure I was okay. Oleg sat by me and held my hand. Another nurse came and asked if he wanted to go see our newborn son.

My husband left with her and shortly came back.

“Our son is alive!” he said relieved and excited. “Olga, when you called me, I was under the impression that he had already died. All the way to the hospital I cried out to God because I wasn’t sure what was happening. Olga, I was worried about you, too. My son is alive! He is moving his hands! Praise God!”

I only now understood why Oleg hadn’t answered my second phone call. Only God saw his tears and heard his questions. Oleg sat by me, held my hand and kept thanking God that our baby was alive.

“The nurses started medications through an IV for our son’s heart and provided him with breathing help,” he explained. “Our baby is in NICU in a warm incubator.”

I was glad to see Oleg happy, even though he still worried. I was glad to hear that our baby was alive, and the doctors were taking good care of him. But after the anesthesia my mind was foggy, and I was in pain. Thank God, I was in one of the best hospitals in Oregon with good doctors and nurses, taking gentle care of me.

…….

After an hour in the recovery room, I was taken to the Intensive Care Unit for postpartum mothers after a high-risk delivery. The nurses put my surgery bed next to the bed that I was to use in the room and asked, “Olga, can you try to scoot from your bed to the one in this room?”

I tried, but felt terrible pain from the C-section incision. Also, due to the anesthesia, I couldn’t feel my legs at all. It was impossible to move. How do you move, when you don’t feel your legs and experience severe pain? I became scared and started crying.

“I am in lots of pain and can’t feel my legs,” I said.

Oleg offered to help the nurses move me, but they did not let him. They asked for help from a male nurse. They wrapped me in sheets and used them to move me from my surgery bed to the bed in the room. Then, the nurse gave me extra pain medications.

That night there wasn’t a room available with a sleeping couch for Oleg. So, he slept on two chairs, sitting on one and resting his feet on another. I wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t. The anesthesia medications made my whole body itch the minute I began falling asleep. I told the nurse, but she answered that it was a side effect of the medications.