UNTITLED TALES
Untitled 22
Many stories
about encounters with angels involve children in some way. My story is no
exception. Now, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that some people will assume
mine is a typical story of a mother making her child out to be spectacular
beyond belief, but I assure you that nothing could be farther from the truth. I
will relate my story as accurately as I can, and will try my best to capture all
the details in hopes that you may understand...
In June of 2003, 3 months after my wedding, I was rushed to the hospital in
extreme pain. After being admitted and a barrage of tests, I was told that I had
two large masses - one on each ovary - and that they suspected cancer. My
regular doctor (OB/GYN) was called in to examine the MRI and other tests, and he
came to me with a grim expression, "I know that you and Mike really wanted
children, but you need to know that you will not be able to conceive. Your
ovaries are completely encased in these growths and cannot function. I'm sorry.
I can refer you to an adoption agency when you're ready, if you'd like."
I was
devastated. My husband and I had been talking about having children for 2 years
before marriage, and we wanted a baby as soon after our wedding as possible. My
husband and I both cried for a few hours, then began to pray. I didn't stop
praying for weeks after that. After my release, cancer was ruled out, but I was
told that a radical hysterectomy would be necessary. The surgery was scheduled
for August 8, 2003.
One week before surgery, as my husband lay sleeping next to
me, I got an overwhelming urge to go out and buy a pregnancy test. Logic told me
it was silly, but my overwhelming desire for a baby overruled. That was my first
stop the next morning. I knew it was "impossible", but had to at least TRY
before they removed my ovaries and uterus. I played hooky from work that
morning, and went home to take the test - I had bought 4 on sale (call me
compulsive). I dipped the first test stick in the little cup of wee-wee. After a
few seconds, there was a bold red line in the test circle, but the indicator was
still blank. I waited. After another 2 minutes, miraculously, there was a faint
line in the indicator circle as well!!! I proceeded, over the next few hours, to
take ALL 4 pregnancy tests in disbelief (there HAD to be something wrong with
the tests - I shouldn’t have bought them on sale!). I then went back to the
drugstore and purchased the "expensive test". Positive. STILL in disbelief, I
headed to the local clinic. Positive!
At my doctor's appointment the next
morning, my doctor's jaw dropped. He called in several members of the office
staff to look at my chart and then told them the "big news". I saw a specialist
that week, and was told that the tumors would have to be removed between my
19th-22nd week of pregnancy or they could rupture, causing death to both me and
the baby. And so it was. I went in for surgery, belly out-to-there, on October
28th, and the tumors were successfully removed, along with one ovary and a
fallopian tube. I was on prescribed rest for the duration of the pregnancy.
The
night of March 15th, as I awaited labor pains, I dreamed of a baby elephant I
was trying to save. He was weak and my heart broke for him because I loved him.
I knew in my dream that if I saved him, he would be with me forever. I awoke
remembering that Siddhartha Buddha’s mother was supposed to have dreamed of a
white baby elephant before giving birth to him.
On March 17th, 2004, St.
Patrick's Day, Connor Michael Milligan was born after 32 hours of labor. He was
alert, but VERY quiet. After several hours in the intensive care unit, doctors
ruled him stable and he was brought to my bedside. As he lay in my arms, only
hours old, he LAUGHED in his sleep! Those of you with newborns know that this is
NOT POSSIBLE. I thought I had a prodigy on my hands, and as a sort-of joke,
began to call him Buddha.
The first couple of weeks brought more laughter, but
also sheer terror. He was terrified of all things electronic. He hated riding in
the car. He wanted only to be held by me - no one else would do. At first, I was
frustrated and exhausted, but a few weeks into his life, during a catnap of only
30 minutes or so, I met a man in my dreams. This man was in his 30's and wearing
all white. He sat to my right and I remember thinking that he was the most
beautiful person I had ever seen. He smiled and told me that he was with me as I
prayed; that he couldn't bear to see my pain and decided to come to take that
pain away. He said he was sorry for crying all the time, and asked me simply to
stay with him and comfort him in this new world as he had never been here
before. This beautiful, blue-eyed man said that only I had the power to care for
him "this time". As he spoke, I saw images of myself lying in bed in the dark
with tears streaming down my face whispering, "Please, God...".
I saw this man,
watching me, but not in the room...as though he was somewhere far away
eavesdropping on my silent prayer. I saw him standing with his profile turned to
me and heard him ask someone unseen if he could be allowed to come be with me.
He said that he loved me and wanted me to be happy. A voice asked if he knew
what he would be giving up, and he said yes, he wanted nothing more than to be
with me. I saw images of wings, of the paintings of the angels in the Sistine
Chapel ceiling, of an angel figuerine I have on a shelf. Images upon images
flashed, all while I sat and focused intently on this man's words.
I awoke to my
new son's 'feed me' sounds (ahhh...ahhhh....ahhhh (softly)) and felt a warmth
and comfort lingering from the dream. With a gentle smile, I turned to my warm
bundle, and as I pulled him to my breast, he opened his blue eyes....and I
recognized them.
Connor is nearly 3 months old now (next week), and he's still afraid of cars and
other things, but he's getting better. He still cries a lot, and I'm still the
only one who can comfort him. He laughs even more now, and likes to simply watch
me. I don't know for sure who he is yet, but I have my suspicions, and I'll
protect and love him forever, always grateful to the one who allowed him to
come.
-Gina C. Milligan.