Happy 13th Birthday Priscilla

The due date for my third child was set for September 22, 1995. With my previous two pregnancies I had to be induced because my body refused to go into labor on its own. So I wasn't surprised when on October 2 the doctor said there was still no signs of delivery. I walked around and around the back yard impatient and irritated. I was more than ready to have this baby. I went to the health food store and purchased a natural herb that was meant to help induce labor. It worked! and for the first time I went into labor on my own.

I was estatic when at 7:00 pm. I arrived at the hospital and found out that I had dialated to a 6. But from that point everything came to a stand still and at 12:00 a.m. October 3 I had not gone any further. The past five hours had been an agonizing nightmare that had only just begun. My blood pressure was really high and the baby was stressing. At one point it's heart beat had completely stopped. The nurse kept telling me she thought the cord was wrapped around it's neck which caused me alot of extra stress and worry. Then, they tried to induce me and I had contraction upon contraction with no relief inbetween.

Finally a head nurse came in and forced open my uterus. It was so horribly painful I litterally screamed. But it worked and at 1:30 a.m. out came a beautiful baby girl. They laid her on my stomach and I remember stroking her soft little head and saying, "So your the sweet thing that was causing all this."

I was estatic to have a new little girl. They took her over to a corner of the room and I waited for them to clean her up and hand her to me like they had done with my first two babies. Everyone was uncannily quiet and I began to feel ill at ease.

"Is she o.k.? When can I hold her?"

"She's fine shhh, she's just not breathing yet, but they are working and she will be fine in a minute."

"Troy, are you praying?" I asked.

"Yes, I'm praying."

Then I heard them say to call in Dr.- the pediatrician on duty. They lifted her up and said to me, "look at your baby" then took her out. I waited believing that soon they would bring her back and lay her in my arms and everything would be o.k. Troy called our pastor and asked him to pray. It wasn't long after that the whole church was praying for us.

The pediatrician came in and told us that our baby had breathed maconium into her lungs meaning that because of the stress, she had a bowl movement in the uterus and on the way out had inhaled this. This first bowel is a very sticky substance called maconium and is like tar in the lungs. It coats the inside of the lungs so oxygen cannot penetrate. This was a few days old, meaning I should have been induced earlier on, so that made it even worse.

I asked if she was going to be alright and he said he did not know.

"When can I hold her?"

"Probably not for a few days."

"Can't I nurse her?"

"Not, now, we are trying to get oxygen into her."

A few minutes later another nurse came in from Mercy San Juan and told us they were going to transfer her because she needed more intensive care than what this hospital could offer. She also said that she was on a venhilator...

Another wait, then another visit, "we've found air outside the baby's lungs. She will have to have a chest tube put in."

"Is that bad?"

"Well, yes, they have to cut into her chest..."

A few minutes later, "Your baby has just had a seizure."

It was at that point hope diminished and I believed she was going to die. I was in shock and very frightened. Next they informed me that with our insurance they would have to transfer her to Sutter Memorial in down-town Sacramento.

At 5:30 a.m. they wheeled her in for us to see her before they transported her. She was all hooked up and looked dead to me and I broke down and started crying. Everything had turned into a nightmare.

But a dear saint of God called me and encouraged me "Your baby is going to be just fine. I know God will take care of her.

And God did. I was released from the hospital at 10:30 a.m. that morning so I could go be with her. Later we found out that Sutter Memorial had the top child care facility in the nation and had she gone to Mercy, she probably wouldn't have survived. God was moving before we even realized it.

October 4- they paralyzed her because she was fighting the venhilator, a new type that was a high jet venhilator that spiral jets the air into the lungs. At this time the doctor informed me she might or might not live. He wasn't sure how things would turn out and that she would be in the hospital a minimum of 30 days.

My pastor came in and prayed over her.

October 5 -they found another air bubble and had to cut another whole into her chest. She had tubes in everywhere; in her hands, feet, head, belly button, chest.... I was also informed they were probably going to give her a blood transfusion. I requester prayer explicitly for this because I did not want her to have one.

October 6- They took her off the paralyzing medicine. She was moving and holding our fingers.

October 7- Her eyes were opened and they were bringing her down on the oxygen level and the pressure on the venhilator. She would cry whenever I left her. I stayed with her as much as possible.

October 8 -She was sucking on a pacifier with the venhilator in her mouth. Started on tube feeding. Coloring looks good.

October 9 -She came down to a low frequency venhilator

October 10 -I held her for the first time I also bottle fed her.

October 11- They let me breast feed her. "Don't be discouraged if she doesn't latch on right away", they warned, "When a baby doesn't nurse the first few days after birth the lose their natural instinct." She latched on quicker that my other two children. I knew this could only be the hand of my heavenly father.

October 12- She came home.

What a miracle! When the respiratory therapist was escorting us to our car to leave the facilities, she asked the nurse, "What baby is this?"

"Priscilla Van Cleve."

"Your Kidding!? Did you know she was supposed to have a procedure done where they make an incision in her neck and drain all her blood and oxygenate it and then put it back in. It is a horrible procedure and there is only a 50/50 chance for survival. You consider that a good omen" said the respiratory therapist.

But I knew in my heart that an omen had nothing to do with it. My God had healed her. Great and marvelous are his ways!!!