When I am weak, He is strong

Anna turned 15 last week.

Birthdays bring back memories. So do birth days. 15 years ago I crossed my fingers, hoping we hadn’t made a big mistake.

After Erica’s birth, I badly ruptured a disc and had back surgery. Both my surgeon and chiropractor advised we not have more children. They said four was a nice number and since pregnancy is hard on the back, we should stop with the healthy children we already had.

I was conflicted. Generally it’s best to follow a doctor’s advice. But was their advice medically valid or did it reflect a personal bias? Keith’s unmarried niece had the same surgery around the same time and her doctor did not tell her to not to have children.

We gambled that the doctors were wrong. I hoped that because God considers children a blessing, He could override a bad back. He designed the whole system so I counted on Him to make it work.

Since I had been led to believe the world would end if I got pregnant again, I religiously followed sound medical pregnancy advice. I ate right, compulsively exercised, and took all reasonable precautions.

We also had another small problem at the time. I didn’t tell my family we were expecting again because my younger brother and his wife were finally expecting after five long infertile years. They had waited so long for their second child, that I wanted all the family limelight to shine on them. They were due in March, we were due in June. I planned to break the news after their baby’s birth.

Which worked great until my parents surprised us with an unexpected visit when John’s baby arrived. My mother stared. speechless as I said, "Oh, by the way. I’m six months pregnant." My parents don’t care how many children we had, but they were shocked that I could be so far along without them knowing. It wasn’t so hard when they live 1,000 miles away.

The downside of this is she asked me for years afterward, "Are you pregnant?" I’d reassure her that I wasn’t pregnant. Then she’d always ask, "You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?" Well, not necessarily.

I went five days late. Two days before her birth, Keith had me shoot baskets for an hour, which at nine months and three days did not feel good. I asked God when Keith gets to heaven to let him be nine months pregnant for one day so he will know what it feels like.

Saturday morning bright and EARLY labor began. You’d think a night owl would have babies at night, but not this time. Things went well and after a four hour labor we welcomed another girl into our family.

The thing is Keith refused to discuss names before our babies arrived. He felt that once the baby was born and we knew if they were a boy or girl, we automatically eliminated fifty percent of the names. Then it’s critically important in his mind, to see the baby first, since as everyone knows, you can’t name a baby until you see what she looks like. He also sincerely believes that names should pass the yelling-out-the-back-door test. If a yelled name didn’t sound right, he checked it off the list.

So we left the hospital without a name. I tried explaining that if we discussed names beforehand like normal people, we would be spared disapproving looks from the hospital staff who looked down their noses and advised that we take care of this as soon as possible.

I suggested Jane because she was born in June, our nurse was Jean, our doctor was John, and Joan took care of our four other children while we were at the hospital. Keith said that Jane was a one syllable name and didn’t balance out Vik. I pointed out that Keith was a one-syllable name but he said he had no control over what his parents named him.

After two days of convoluted negotiations we came up with "Anna Grace". Since Anna’s first and middle names mean the same thing, Keith gave Anna the verse, John 1: 16, which says, "And of His fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace." We liked that the faithful Anna in the New Testament immediately recognized the Messiah.

Were the doctors wrong? Did my exercise and precautions pay off? Did God do a mini-miracle?

Thankfully, my back held up fine through pregnancy and delivery. I’m sure a good diet and exercise didn’t hurt, but I believe God answered our prayers and honored our faith in His word that says children are a blessing. I’m so glad we didn’t listen to my doctors in this instance because we would have missed out on not only Anna, but Amy and Lani as well.

My back will always be weak. I’m aware of it every day. But God strengthened my damaged disc to withstand the rigors of three pregnancies. Things weren't always easy but God met all our needs and then some.

Weak back + strong faith + God’s grace = A beautiful (I'm biased) daughter.

Please leave a comment and share if you had any birth day blessings. When you trusted God and He met you in the delivery room or walked you through a hard spot. I love stories of answered prayer.

(If you'd like to comment about something else, that's okay too.)