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I knew our situation would be nearly unbearable and that we would need lots of advice, love, help, comfort and support, to be able to deal with this complicated pregnancy. I first turned to my Father. We share a special co
“Dad, our baby’s heart issues are so serious. Can you please pray for us?” I asked my Father.
“Olga, the news is terrifying, but please, take care of yourself,” my Father said. “Don’t worry. God will take care of you and your baby. We will pray, and God will help. I love you, Daughter. Be strong.”
I know Dad worried and wanted to help me. Even though there was little he could do, he could continue loving us and praying for us.
I also called my Mother-in-law to tell her the news and ask her for prayers. She is such a wonderful lady. She tried to calm me down and asked me not to worry, reminding me that often the doctors are wrong. She promised to pray for us.
Next, I called our friends, relatives, co-workers and neighbors, and asked them to pray for us. The illness of our baby did not only add worry to Oleg and me. It affected our whole big family and the people who surrounded us. Everyone questioned why God let it happen. People didn’t know what to tell us or how to comfort us, yet they promised to pray for us.
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We sought support and comfort from the ministers of our church. We spoke to them about the serious problems of our baby, expecting prayers and the traditional anointing of the holy oil. Instead, we heard the opposite, “Check your lives. Maybe there is something for which God is punishing you. God doesn’t usually give ill children to Christians.”
Oleg and I were shocked. We expected support rather than more pain. We knew we didn’t sin. We thought God is merciful. Everything comes from God. Nothing is done without His will. It is only God who judges us. Returning home, we prayed asking God to heal our son and to give us strength and understanding to accept His will.
Every day I was in tears. Often, I called my best friend, Katya, with my questions. She knew I needed help.
“Call Pastor Ivan,” she suggested. “He is my cousin, a positive and a knowledgeable person. He will answer your questions.”
One day, when I just couldn’t find peace, I called the Pastor Ivan, whom I had never met. I asked him my questions. His answers were like a breath of fresh air that poured new life and strength into our lives.
“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.
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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…
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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.
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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.
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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.