The Puzzle of Elijah. Olga Anischenko

life.

      “We believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and He will help us,” Oleg said. “There is no way we will do an abortion.”

      When the cardiologist came back, we told her our decision and left the hospital. On our way home, we prayed and wondered when God was going to step in and heal our baby. Our faith gave us hope.

      Every month we met with the same cardiologist and had echocardiograms, which showed that the problems with our baby’s heart were still there. As the fetus grew older, the option of an abortion would no longer exist. This didn’t matter because we weren’t willing to consider an abortion. Every time, the doctors were telling us how severe our baby’s heart defects were, Oleg and I loved our expected son more and more. We still had that hope that God would heal him.

      …….

      A normal pregnancy is forty weeks. Unfortunately, at twenty-six weeks, my blood sugar started rising. I developed Gestational Diabetes and didn’t look or feel healthy at all.

      “Olga, you need to start eating healthy,” the doctor said. “I will refer you to a dietitian, who will tell you which diet to follow. Olga, you also need to start pricking your finger three times daily to check your blood sugar. I am afraid you may need to start insulin shots soon.”

      “I can poke my finger and check the sugar level, but I am so scared of insulin shots. I promise I will do everything possible to keep my blood sugar level in control,” I said.

      I have never had Diabetes. I was young and thought it only happened to old people. A week later, my blood sugar was still very high. The idea of shots scared me. I couldn’t imagine giving myself a shot, so I tried even harder to eat healthy. Luckily, my blood sugar level dropped to an acceptable range.

      At twenty-eight weeks, my blood pressure began to rise, and I started to retain water. My body seemed to fill up like a balloon, which made me even more uncomfortable. I had a doctor’s visit again.

      “Olga, I am worried that you may develop preeclampsia. We may need to hospitalize you,” the doctor said.

      “What is preeclampsia?” I asked. “How can I develop it?”

      “It is a serious condition, characterized by high blood pressure and protein in the urine. It occurs when the placenta starts functioning improperly. This condition can cause respiratory problems and restriction of your baby’s growth. It can also damage your liver and kidneys. The only cure for preeclampsia is to deliver the baby early.”

      “Our baby is sick and now my life and health is in danger? But, there is no way you can hospitalize me. My children need me at home.”

      “I hope we don’t have to hospitalize you, but time will tell,” the doctor said.

      How do you believe the doctors if you feel fine? In truth, I tried to rationalize the problem away. At home, I tried harder to rest and follow the doctor’s directions, hoping that my blood pressure would not rise.

      …….

      A week later, I developed a bad headache and just felt awful. I drove to my Mom’s house to check my blood pressure on her machine. It was 167/107. Normal is 120/80. At that time, I was thirty-two years old and had no idea that those numbers were very high for anyone, much less for a pregnant woman. My Mom worried and told me to call the doctor. I called and spoke with a nurse.

      “Olga, lay on the left side for one hour and check again,” the nurse instructed. “If the blood pressure does not decrease, go to the emergency room immediately. From such high blood pressure, your baby might die any minute, or you might have a stroke.”

      I laid on my left side for an hour. How do you stay calm when you are worried? I didn’t know. I tried, but my blood pressure did not decrease. Oleg came home from work. He and I left the children at my Mom’s house and went to the Southwest Washington Medical Center (SWMC) in Vancouver. After six hours at the hospital, the doctor prescribed me medications to lower my blood pressure and let me go home.

      The next day, I was okay and just rested. The following morning my blood pressure was high again, so I called the nurse.

      “Olga, get to the hospital as soon as possible because your baby and you can die any minute,” the nurse instructed.

      Oleg and I left our three children at my Mom’s house and drove to the Emergency Room. The doctors immediately hospitalized me. They put an IV with medications in my arm to decrease my blood pressure. I felt normal, except for a terrible headache, but what the doctors were telling me made it sound like I was very sick and in a serious trouble.

      Oleg stayed with me. He was calm, but worried. Late in the evening, he left to pick up the children and go home. He had to continue caring for our children and supporting our family. I don’t know what he thought or told the children that evening. My Mom told me later that our children were scared and prayed that nothing bad would happen to me and the baby.

      …….

      My evening at the hospital was quiet. The nurse attached a monitor to my stomach, so the nurse and I could hear my baby’s heartbeat. The medications were working, and my blood pressure decreased slightly. Surprisingly, I was calm and accepted everything as it happened. I now was sure that my life and the life of our unborn son was in danger. I prayed to God for His help. Resting quietly, I read a book and made a few phone calls before I fell asleep.

      Luckily, the next morning everything seemed to be okay. I thought I might be able to return home. Unfortunately, a test showed protein in my urine and the doctor said I should stay in the hospital another day. I was really disappointed because my oldest sister Tanya had asked me several months ago to save the date for a baby shower for me that evening. Even though my seven sisters, two sisters-in-law and I knew that our baby was very ill and might not survive, we rarely talked about it. Planning a baby shower for me was a normal process. That is what sisters and friends do for every expectant Mother. Tanya had worked very hard to have a baby shower for me that evening. All the guests were invited. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but now I didn’t think I was going to be able to attend. Surprisingly, later in the day, my blood pressure decreased.

      “Olga, I will give you a two-hour pass to go to your baby shower,” the doctor said. “Then you have to come back to the hospital. Be very careful.”

      “Thank you!” I exclaimed. “I am so happy you let me go. This means so much to me!”

      Maybe the doctor let me go because if she told me I couldn’t go, my blood pressure might rise higher than if I would go. In retrospect, it might seem crazy, but at the time the baby shower was very important to me. Sometimes, we get our priorities mixed up and just do things that in hindsight we would never do.

      My friend, Katya, picked me up at the hospital and drove me to the party. The guests were waiting for me at my sister’s house. Her living room was beautifully decorated in lime and brown colors. The sign “It’s a Boy!” hung on the wall and delicious food filled the table. The party was wonderful. My family and friends came to support me. They knew I was ill and they prayed for me. I thanked everyone for coming and told them I had only a two-hour-pass from the doctor. We ate, opened presents and took pictures. My ten-year-old daughter Kristina brought me food, opened the presents for me, and was just happy I was with her. The time flew by quickly.

      “Friends, I don’t have time to read your cards,” I said. “But I will read them at the hospital. I promise.”

      “It’s okay, Olga. We wish you luck and we will pray for you,” my friends and family answered. They prayed for me. It felt good to be surrounded by loved ones, who wanted our baby to live, and their gifts reflected it.

      Happy that I could attend, I returned to the hospital. I was tired and went to bed. The nurse attached the monitor again to my belly. She turned it on every thirty minutes to check the baby’s heartbeat. I felt normal with no pain or headache and fell asleep. At about 11 p.m., a beeping noise woke me up. Frightened, I opened my eyes wide, looked at the monitor and saw that our baby’s heart beat had dropped dramatically from 150 to 56 beats per minute. In panic, I pressed the help button. The nurse ran into my room.

      “Olga,