Our Amazing God

My friend Carolyn shared her story with me:

A year after Dave and I married, Dave received his papers to report for active duty to the army in 1969.

We wanted children but I knew conception might be difficult because of endometriosis. We consulted an infertility doctor to no avail. Chances were high Dave would serve a tour of duty in Vietnam. We decided to begin adoption proceedings.

Orders came assigning Dave to Ft. Lewis in Tacoma, Washington. On our way there, we discovered I was pregnant. Had I heard the doctor right? How could this be?

We settled into our apartment to await the birth of our little one. Dave soon received orders for Vietnam. His departure date was June, one month before the baby was due. He would not return until February—if at all.

As I advanced through the pregnancy, complications set in. I feared losing the baby.

Doctors didn't hesitate to use a new tool. Amniocentesis. I underwent numerous needle pricks to draw amniotic fluid from my uterus.

Because this pregnancy was high risk, Dave received a revision of orders. Now he wasn't to leave until after the baby was due.

On my due date, I had an appointment with the Army doctor.

I said, "This baby has become so quiet. Is this normal?"

The doctor checked and found no heartbeat. "I'm ordering another amniocentesis."

The report came back. "Dead baby."

My doctor said, "We won't induce labor. We're going to let nature take its course. Your body will go into labor. You'll deliver this child in due time."

My vision blurred with tears. I slid off the exam table and drove home.

Dave and I hardly spoke of the doctor's news. My ears had heard the words, but my heart refused to believe them. The baby never moved again. In faith, Dave continued his work building the baby's furniture.

Because the doctors expected me to go into labor at any time, Dave received another deferment for Vietnam.

A week passed. Then two. Then three. Then four.

August 10, the doctor ordered another amniocentesis. They drew out a murky green fluid.

The doctor explained, "Your baby died because it had a bowel movement in the amniotic fluid, then aspirated the contamination. It shouldn't be long before this is over."

That night, I went into labor. We drove to the hospital in silence. Hope and grief raged within. Soon I would be bereft of this little child I had carried for over ten months.

After the delivery, the doctor greeted Dave with, "Lieutenant Unruh, You wife delivered a live son.'

"Dave said, 'A live son? But you said . . .'"

"'Even though he weighs over eight pounds, he's very sick. We rushed him to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit with a fecal infection. We'll monitor him there until he dies."

Even though the doctor's words should have brought devastation, Dave was filled with a quiet assurance. Since God had given us a live birth, Dave felt He would also cause our son to thrive, despite the dire predictions.

I was allowed to see our son when he was three days old. When the nurse laid him in my arms, I wept for joy. Here was our son. Not dead, but alive.

To the doctor's amazement, he continued to gain in strength. On the eighth day, we went home.

Dave's deferment would be over. Soon I would wave my precious husband good-bye for the deadly rice paddies of Vietnam.

One night, unable to sleep, Dave picked up an Army Regulations Manuel and noticed an asterisk on the bottom of a page. "If a soldier is to be deployed shorter than 180 days, he is exempt from deployment."

He counted the days before his scheduled release from the Army. He shouted to me from the living room, "Carolyn! Look at this! They can't send me to Vietnam! I only have 178 days left in the service!"

Today, our son Darren is six-foot, four inches and in excellent health. He and his wife, Teri, and their four children raise cattle, chickens, and Mastiff show dogs.

Matthew 19:26b "… with God all things are possible" (NASB).

Psalm 40:1b "… He inclined to me and heard my cry" (NASB).

Copyright © Sally Jadlow, used with permission.