Honestly, even though we were in the full eclipse zone last summer in Wyoming, as was our daughter across the border in Nebraska, we weren’t tuned into the buzz around it.
Our attention instead focused on a struggle for life. Tasha (our eldest) from her earliest years adored children, and visa-versa. Sadly, Tasha was informed by doctors that she had endiometriosis, polycystic- ovary-syndrome and her uterus was misshaped – impossible for her to have children. “Even if you could conceive” (because of injuries she had sustained to her liver, and head – which caused seizures) “You couldn’t carry a child. It would kill you.” The Doctors warned.
Tasha resigned to the fact, though she hoped to adopt. No surprise to us… while still in high school Tasha had found a boy in the Philippines she had begged her father to adopt.
Last spring at thirty-five-years-old Tasha found herself pregnant. She didn’t tell anyone because Doctors insisted, “Your body will abort it. It is probably tubal.”
Tasha, unable to keep food down was hospitalized at four months along, and they removed her gallbladder, and sent her home on a weekend. We were finally told. Unable to keep anything down all weekend Tasha was back in the hospital for IV’s on Monday. After several more trips and losing an average of 2lbs a day (more than 20lbs total), they set her up on home IV’s in a back pack. With fluids up, she managed to keep a little food down each day.
Trips to the hospital continued weekly with plugged stents, bleeding, a torn placenta, then a week before the big eclipse Tasha’s water broke. At only 27 weeks, the baby’s organs seemed to be developing well. It’s weight was only in the 24 percentile. After getting the contractions stopped, Tasha was sent home with orders to do basically nothing. Saturday her dad and I went over, noticing eclipse traffic even in her remote location.
Tasha, through all, has been cautiously, yet increasingly excited over this little one – determined to do all she could to help this child survive – if possible. The cost to Tasha was proving staggering in every area of her life.
“I was upset, but I just surrendered everything to God. It was like he just wrapped me in an embrace and told me it would be okay, and He has kept me there.” Even as Tasha spoke she wrapped her arms around her belly and hugged its precious cargo.
We marveled and thanked God for his work in this. We rejoiced together over ultra sounds so vivid we discerned facial features. I would lie to say we haven’t worried, and empathized with the suffering of our daughter; it put us on our knees, yet we know God loves them more than we ever can.
Home on Sunday the buzz of the eclipse goer’s grew to an un-ignorable roar as our small town boomed and the freeway by our house became a flooding river of traffic north.
Otie reads me the specific astronomical odds to create this God ordained moment. ‘I am thinking of other astronomical odds.’
Living on southern border of the full eclipse, we intended to watch from home. Monday morning we were going about our chores when two vehicles pulled into our driveway. Old friends from south of town, with family from California … “Would we mind if they watched the eclipse at our place?”
We gathered in the yard and combined food for a picnic, catching up as we watched the sun rapidly slide behind the moon. There was a haze to the day, an unnatural increasing darkness, the sweltering temperatures dropped. The sun was gone. We took our glasses off to see the reddish glow illuminating around the edges of the moon. For a minute we were each captivated.
My eclipse impression … sometimes close up, trials, pain, sin, or evil block the light from our view, yet our good God is many times larger and more powerful than that which blinds our sight. His light and purpose can and will not be extinguished in His creation. He truly is the God with whom nothing is impossible. We can trust and praise him with everything.
The slightest sliver of light causes us to begrudgingly replace our glasses. How quickly the light returned.
The young California couple bade hasty goodbyes and bolted in an effort to catch a flight out of Denver. Within fifteen minutes of the eclipse the freeway is jammed.
Tasha calls, “I am having contractions every minute, heading to the hospital.” I try to tell her to call an ambulance to get through the traffic – but lost service. The phones are jammed. They are 55 miles from the hospital.
We prayed, called family, rushed about evening chores, and packed a few things. We know they’ll desire to send her to Denver, but don’t like to fly women in labor.
Over an hour later, Tasha’s husband called, “Tasha is in the hospital, they put her on drugs to stop the contractions. She is having seizures.” At 1:30 a.m. as the drugs wore off the contractions resumed. Tasha went into another seizure. She is flown to Denver. At 2:30 a.m. our freeway finally is unjammed.
To be continued …
By: Tonya Stevenson
