OUR 32 YEAR OLD MIRACLE

A little more than 32 years ago, my wife informed me that she was having strange pains. I was concerned, of course, but I didn’t think it was too serious. After all, she was pregnant, and discomfort comes with the territory. Right? Right. It couldn’t be labor pains because she was barely seven months along.

As day turned to night, the pain got worse, so we headed to the hospital, over fifty miles away. When we arrived, we found out it was labor pains, after all. The doctor said it was way too early, and the baby was way too small. He wasn’t due for almost three whole months, so they had to try to stop the labor.

They gave my wife medication for hours, and then hours turned into days. After a few days, the doctor decided he couldn’t stop the labor with the medication. To try any longer could harm the baby if it hadn’t already. He was going to come out.

We knew he was a boy and had already named him Zakary; with that weird spelling. It doesn’t seem that weird to me at all, though. It’s a better way to spell the name than ZACHARY, which I’ve never really liked at all. I guess that’s why I wanted to spell it differently. His mother wanted to name him after Zach from the TV show we loved called Saved By The Bell. She said we could name him Zakary, and call him Zak, which she never did. I got the spelling for the name from a baseball card I had of Zakary Taylor.

For months, we had been anticipating his arrival, and we were so ready to hold him in our arms, but now we were worried; really worried. It’s too early. He’s too small. He may not survive, and if he does, he may have lots of problems.

Wanting to prepare us for the worst, the doctor said, “his lungs are not developed yet. We need to give him a few rounds of steroids to help them develop. Even then, there’s no guarantee. He’ll have to stay in the hospital for a good while. He only weighs about three pounds.”

Frightening news, but we were praying, and begging God to let our son be alright. We knew God could make everything okay. He had so many times before. But, there had also been times I had prayed when things hadn’t gone well, so I was still worried.

After a few more days, and some more steroids, the doctor said he couldn’t hold back the labor any longer. We would just have to deal with whatever problems the baby would have as a result of being premature. So the next step was to go ahead and let him come out, and start working on him to ensure his survival. So, they broke the water, and we waited.

Not long into our wait, the nurses ran into the room and started checking the machines. The machines were working properly. The baby’s heart had stopped. It started back, but his heart rate kept dropping back down. After his heart stopped a second time, they rushed us down to the operating room and began a C-section to get him out as soon as possible. In no time, the doctor had him out and held him up. He was alive and breathing on his own, and he soon let everyone in the room know for sure that his lungs were well-developed. We were so happy to hear him crying.

What a miracle! The premature baby with undeveloped lungs, which the doctor said only weighed three pounds, turned out to have great lungs, and weighed over seven pounds. Praise the Lord! Thank you, Jesus.

As I held my firstborn son in my arms, I was filled with joy and awe. God had given me my heart’s desire; a son. The Bible tells us that children are a blessing from the Lord (Psalm 127:3-5). That day, that blessing was bestowed on me, and I thanked God for giving me a son.

Today, we're celebrating Zakk’s 32nd birthday. That’s over a quarter of a century. It sounds like a long time, but in some ways, it seems like only yesterday when I first looked into the eyes of that beautiful blessing from God. He’s grown into a fine young man, and I’m so proud of him. He reminds me so much of me when I was his age. I love him so much, and I thank God for him, and for the awesome miracle, he performed for us 32 years ago.

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