The Power of Prayer, too

[Guest guest]

Hello Lady Joyce, All Friends -

 

Again, you have shared stories that bring messages of hope and faith,

which are surely needed in these times. The breath inside the breath,

indeed... and it is breathtaking, imo.

 

love,

joyce

 

PS - It seems as though you and I share more than a name, for we have

both been touched by adoption. You have adopted your beautiful

children. And I am an adopted child, myself. For me, it has been an

experience of both heartbreak and joy, and I am grateful for the

lessons - the sweet and the bittersweet - and the adventures. Anyway,

I digress. Thanks again for your sharing.

 

 

 

, "Lady Joyce" <ladyjoy@v...>

wrote:

> The story below was sent to me by a client who I represented for a

work injury. I had sent her my own little story on the adoption of

my children, knowing that she also had adopted children, only her

adoptions went through the process of foster parenting first. She

responded to my story with one of her own. After you get through the

long and sad litany of her physical problems, this story ends with

another story within the story...the Power of Prayer. The breath

inside the breath, if you will.

>

> So many paths...one Holy Destination :-)

>

> Love, Joyce

>

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> "Your child has four holes in her heart."

> "Your child has fetal alcohol syndrome."

> "Your child has ADDHD."

> "Your child has epilepsy."

> "Your child has central nervous system damage."

> "Your child has Dandy-Walker variant and is mentally challenged."

>

> What a sad little group of children. This is not a group. This is

my child. My beautiful, wonderful, loving, special daughter, Beth.

Beth came to me along with her sister Brittany on June 12, 1998. They

has been neglected and abandoned by their birth mother. I looked at

these two little girls and my heart just swelled. How can anybody

neglect his or her children? Especially ones so beautiful and

charming. There had to be a mistake.

>

> "Don't get attached to them, they're only here for six months.

Their mother will be getting them back after she goes through

parenting classes," the social worker said. Little did we know what

would lie ahead for them or for us.

> Beth began exhibiting unusual behavior at age two. She did not

speak, she did not sleep. Beth shook all the time. She began having

seizures.

>

> I took her to the pediatrician and he said that she odd behavior

and it was just a temper tantrum that she was throwing and holding of

the breath until she fainted. I knew he was wrong. We told the

caseworker, they sided with the doctor.

> Beth finally started to speak at the age of three. It was jumbled

uneven speech. I took her to a speech therapist.

> "This is age appropriate,'' the therapist said. I said they were

wrong, the caseworker sided with them.

> Beth continued to have the seizures and very bizarre behavior. She

was walking into walls. She was constantly falling. Her little body

always looked battered and bruised. Finally, one morning she woke up

and couldn't stop crying and all she could say is "I am SAD."

>

> I took her back the pediatrician and he said to take her for a

psychiatric evaluation. AHA! Finally we are getting somewhere.

> When I took her for the evaluation the counselor said that they

could not help her, Beth at this time refused to talk. She would only

mumble and cry. I left there feeling as though I was the one going

crazy and nobody would help me. One day we were getting a physical at

a new pediatrician's office. He listened carefully to her heart and

wanted me to take her for tests. There were many skipped heartbeats

and he wanted to see what was going on.

>

> I took her, then I got the doctors report. Beth has four holes in

her heart. We had to take her to a specialist immediately. I had to

get permission from the agency we were dealing with. Finally they

gave their approval for her to see a specialist.Beth was born with a

heart defect called Atria Septal Defect. It was causing the blood to

leave her heart and go back into her lungs causing the lungs to

become damaged from too much oxygen rich blood. This is probably why

she was "fainting".

> She would have to be operated on immediately.

>

> There was a new clinical trial available for her situation. The

doctor would cut a small incision into the groin area and put an

Amplatzer device into her heart that would open up and seal the

holes. The agency did not want to do this. They preferred that she

have open-heart surgery. I fought for her. I went to court and

petitioned the court for her to have this surgery.

> The judge was a kind man. He explained that he had a 22-year-old

son that had experimental surgery. If it were not for that surgery

his son would not be alive today. I won.

>

> Beth fully recovered. I thought the past was behind us. Beth's

mother showed up one day after many long absences extending from one

to three months at a time. She forgot to tell us about Beth's birth

defect. By this time Beth was with us for three years. After three

and a half years we were finally able to adopt the little girls. Now

I had the power to find out what was wrong. What I did not know is

that I didn't have the power to fix it.

>

> Beth continued to act strangely. She was still taking in jumbled

sentences. She has great difficulty in learning basic skills.

Mealtimes were a disaster with spilled milk and food thrown from one

end of the room to the other. Beth still couldn't be potty trained

completely. I took her to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia. There

they fully examined Beth.

>

> Beth has fetal alcohol syndrome. According to her birth record she

had been born extremely jittery. The birthmother had a history of

drug abuse and had used every drug available to her while pregnant.

The hospital never tested Beth because no drugs were in the birth

mother when she delivered. Most likely Beth was going through

withdrawal and they failed to notice it.

> The specialist was a very sweet person. She came to me and held me

when she told me that Beth would never be all right. She left me

there for awhile while I cried. Her last words to me were that Beth

had an angel on her shoulder and now she has one to take care of her.

>

> An angel? I didn't know the slightest thing about Fetal Alcohol

Syndrome. I did a great deal of research. Fetal Alcohol Syndrome

causes seizures. At last. I have documented proof. I took this to her

pediatrician. She immediately sent Beth to a neurologist. Beth went

through many extensive tests. She has epilepsy. She also has

essential tremors along with central nervous system damage. All of

this, because of drugs.

>

> Beth was put on medication for her seizures and for her attention

deficit disorder. She began speaking in sentences.

> The neurologist wanted a MRI of Beth's brain. We had that done. The

results were even more devastating. Beth was born with Dandy-Walker

variant. Her brain had not fully developed. It explained the constant

falling but we had a new worry. Beth was a prime candidate for

hydrocephalus. She would have to be carefully watched.

>

> At this time, she was in kindergarten. She still could not write

her name nor could she say her address or phone number. It could be

the fact that she has short-term memory loss.By this time, I was

falling apart. I had my own physical problems and now we had this

devastating blow to deal with. She went for more tests and we learned

that she is mildly mentally retarded.

> I had always believed in God. But this was too much. If there

really were a loving and wonderful God he would not have done this.

It was too much for one child to deal with. He was cruel. I no longer

believed. I didn't want to go to church anymore. I even failed to say

prayers like I had been. I prayed all the time for Beth and they were

unanswered. He told me No and I was angry. But then something

happened..

>

> My parents belong to a Methodist church and with much aggravation I

finally agreed to take Beth there. My father explained there is a

special prayer in which the elders of the church lay their hands upon

the sick and pray. I finally agreed.

> When I arrived at my parent's house, I told them how I felt about

God and everything. Instead of the anger I had expected from them I

received loving arms and they told me they understood. They just

wanted me to give God one more chance. I agreed but first bargained

with him. I wanted a sign. I wanted to believe but too many bad

things have happened and I was always told that he would never give

us too much to carry and this was too much.

>

> We went to church. The pastor asked for us to come forward. My

father and I explained about Beth and we asked for the elders to come

forward and pray for her. The pastor had never met me nor did he talk

to my parents about me. He asked them to pray for my spiritual

healing. He said I had so much heartbreak that I really needed to be

helped. The prayer began.

> I started to cry. Tears that would not stop. My head was spinning

and it felt as though ten thousand pounds were being lifted off of

me. I looked up during the prayers. The elders were supposed to be

there. Where were they? I couldn't see them because the entire

congregation has left their seats and came forward. They all were

praying. Not silent prayers either. It was mothers of children

begging God to help this little girl and her mother. Fathers asking

God to show me the way so that I might be able to help my daughter.

After the prayer was over we went home. I felt so unsure about

everything that had happened. I asked God for a sign but surely a

group of people caught up in prayer wasn't it. I felt defeated.

>

> I was sitting at my desk one week later and feeling very alone. The

k ids were coming home again and Beth would have papers crammed into

her tiny little fists that were filled with loving corrections from

her teacher and I would have to help her try and understand what she

did wrong. Well, in they came and in came wrinkled up papers. I

looked at them wishing to put it off until later but Beth wanted it

done immediately. I looked. I looked again. On the top of Beth's

paper was written in the most beautiful writing that a mother has

ever seen was ELIZABETH MARY HOWELL. Beth had written her name! She

not only wrote her name but told me her address and phone number

also. She didn't have any help. She did it on her own. I looked into

those beautiful brown eyes of hers and whispered, "But Beth you did

have help."

>

> Whenever I feel very anxious or depressed I bring out that piece of

wrinkled up paper and I look at it and I thank God for everything. I

thank him for the little girl that brought me back to him; I thank

him for all the people that prayed for her that day. I know that Beth

will never be totally fine but I do know that she is in God's hands

and all this time he really has been watching over us. After all, he

gave me a sign.