I have never felt so out of control and helpless in my entire life. Those days were some of the darkest I have ever experienced as a mother. During the first three months of Hudson’s life we knew our sweet baby was sick—he had low muscle tone, did not feed well, and was very lethargic.
Every doctor we saw had a different opinion about what could be wrong.
No one was able to give us a diagnosis.
My sweet Hudson Jack was born October 16th, the youngest of our 3 boys who were 5 and 2 1/2 at the time. He was born on time, and we were expecting a healthy boy like our other boys.
An hour after delivery, he began having seizures. Then his blood glucose level got too low. A nurse later told me she cannot believe he survived.
I didn’t even call my husband to tell him what I was doing.
I prayed to God to help me, to help Hudson. But I didn’t totally trust God was fully in control of the situation.
It was up to me to find out what was wrong. I was his mother—I had to be his advocate and find out how to make him well.
Hudson had been out of the NICU only a few days when he had to return for emergency hernia surgery. Then two weeks after he was born we headed to the hospital for more bloodwork.
The thought of taking my barely 6 pound baby again to the hospital to be poked for more blood, was almost more than I could bear. My husband had to work, so I put on a brave face and went alone.
I cried the entire time they took his blood. I don’t think Hudson cried as much as I did.
Afterwards I sat in the waiting room waiting for the car valet, my face stained with tears. A woman I didn’t know approached me and asked me about Hudson who was quietly sleeping in his car seat.
A nurse later told me she cannot believe he survived.
“How old is he?” she asked. “Are you breastfeeding him?”
The more questions she asked, the more tears started to flow. Finally I said, “He’s sick.”
She looked at me with the kindest eyes, gave me a hug, and said, “You need to give your baby to Jesus.”
That’s a strange thing to say, I thought. Instead, I replied, “Yes ma’am. I believe Jesus saved Hudson’s life when he was born. He almost didn’t make it.”
“No,” she said. “I want you to go to the altar of your church and lay your baby before the Lord. He wants you to trust Him with your baby.” She insisted I do as she instructed, so I promised her I would. Strangely, I drove away feeling the presence of the Lord.
I prayed on the way home—I wanted to believe God was going to take care of Hudson, that he was going to be okay. I wanted to believe with all my heart. As I prayed, God spoke to me more clearly than ever before.
So I did it. In the middle of a weekday, I walked into my church with Hudson. I didn’t even call my husband to tell him what I was doing.
When I came in, a woman whom I have known my whole life (but who normally does not attend my church) was standing near the sanctuary. She asked me what I was doing, so I told her. She asked if she could pray with me.
A divine appointment. This woman’s own son had been sick his whole life. She was the perfect person to be there with me.
I laid Hudson on the altar, and we both cried and prayed over him.
We asked God to heal his body. Finally, I trusted God completely. I felt a peace wash over me. I was overcome by the Holy Spirit and finally understood how much He loved me and Hudson.
Three month’s later was the scariest day of my life—the appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist. The day we got a diagnosis. He had a condition called Optic Nerve Hypoplasia and possibly Septo/Optic Dysplasia.
My son couldn’t see, but God’s story for him wasn’t over.
My son was blind and possibly had life-threatening endocrine deficiencies.
His case was bilateral (both eyes)—severe. His eyes didn’t track well because, likely, he didn’t see more than light and shadows. In this condition, the optic nerves are 1/3 of the normal size. There is no cure. It’s a rare abnormality that formed during my first trimester and went undetected.
My heart was broken. My son couldn’t see, but God’s story for him wasn’t over.
We discovered he had significant endocrine deficiencies, which explained some of his feeding problems and lethargy. He would be on medication for the rest of his life, but his condition was stable.
We praised God for that. With hope, we prayed for God to restore Hudson’s sight.
I began trusting God for a miracle after the altar experience. It prepared my heart. Over time, we noticed Hudson’s eyes were tracking things better. At every appointment, doctors told us his vision was improving. A condition like this is not supposed to change, but it happened.
Our pediatric ophthalmologist smiled and said Hudson was a miracle. Joy overwhelmed us.
He is now 7 years old. He is learning to read, will be able to drive someday, and sees the world like we never thought he would. Every single doctor who sees him cannot believe he has such great vision.
No one can explain why Hudson has sight except the grace of God. He is truly a miracle! We are so grateful. God loves us so much.
Our heavenly Father is still in the business of miracles. Tweet This
Jennifer Pollard is a wife and mom of 3 healthy boys, whom she home schools in Kansas. She promises me in so many words, “God’s got this.” Take it from a woman who knows.
How are you believing God to work a miracle in your story? Tweet This
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*Photo courtesy of diannehope.