Join The Conversation With Mishpacha's Weekly Newsletter



Lifelines: Thanking the Doctor

C. Saphir

Doctors aren’t prophets. They have permission to heal, but not to make predictions. But only several years later did I learn Who the true Healer is

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

 Mishpacha image

“Where’s my emunah?” I retorted. “The fact that I’m having this baby, that’s my emunah.”

W hen I was expecting my sixth child, I was diagnosed with a condition that was life-threatening to both the baby and me.

“This pregnancy is not viable,” my doctor warned. “The baby will either die before birth or be born a vegetable. You might die, too.”

What is a Jewish woman supposed to do when she hears such words? The first thing I did was talk to Hashem. “Ribbono shel Olam,” I said, “the child born before this has serious mental and physical disabilities. They’re telling me that if this baby survives, it will be a vegetable. I can’t handle two disabled children!”

The next thing I did, together with my husband, was speak to a rav. He advised us to get a second opinion, and referred us to a specialist, Dr. Hartstein. “Right now, there is no immediate danger to you or the baby,” Dr. Hartstein told me. “So let’s monitor the situation. When it becomes dangerous, we can take action then.”

The condition did turn life-threatening — at 35 weeks of gestation. Dr. Hartstein performed an emergency C-section at that point, and my daughter Bracha was born completely healthy. That experience taught me that doctors are not prophets. They have permission to heal, but not to make predictions.

But it was several years later that I really learned Who the true Healer is.

After my ninth child, I went through a number of miscarriages. I had lost several pregnancies earlier in my childbearing career, but those were scattered between my healthy babies, and were not as difficult. These losses, in contrast, proved absolutely devastating. I became down and miserable, a shadow of myself. I went about my daily routine mechanically, doing what I had to do to run my house and take care of my kids, but without any joy or pleasure. I lost a lot of weight, because I had no appetite and I barely ate. I had no interest in doing anything, and I cried myself to sleep practically every night.

You have so much brachah in your life, I would scold myself. Appreciate what you have! Snap out of it!

But all that did was make me feel guilty.

During this time, my niece got married. I felt no excitement before or during the wedding, and when I made sheva brachos afterward, I went through the motions on autopilot. I didn’t care about the simchah at all; all I wanted to do was get through it.

At one point, I met a woman who worked in the local pharmacy and had helped me to get certain hard-to-obtain medications during my last failed pregnancy. “I want to thank you for all your help,” I told her. Then, I added, “I lost the baby in the end.”

As I said those words, I started crying. Thinking how silly and ungrateful it must look for a mother of nine children to be crying about a failed pregnancy, I apologized for crying.

“Don’t be sorry,” she responded. “Cry! Keep on crying! These are emeseh tears coming from a broken heart. Use those tears to daven, since Hashem is karov l’nishberei lev.”

Related Stories

Take Note

Libby Rubinstein

The same group of toddlers who had spent three weeks belting out the repertoire at home now sat squi...

Memories Snowy and Fuzzy

MAURINE WEINER

Though nearly half a century had gone by, I could still picture high school Suri on the other end of...

Lifetakes: From House to Home

Faigy Markowitz

When you buy a house, you purchase the place that will become a home. A headache arises from a place...

Share this page with a friend. Fill in the information below, and we'll email your friend a link to this page on your behalf.

Your name
Your email address
You friend's name
Your friend's email address
Please type the characters you see in the image into the box provided.
CAPTCHA
Message


MM217
 
The Fortunes of War
Rabbi Moshe Grylak We’re still feeling the fallout of the First World War
Some Lessons, But Few Portents
Yonoson Rosenblum What the midterms tell us about 2020
Vote of Confidence
Eyan Kobre Why I tuned in to the liberal radio station
5 out of 10
Rabbi Dovid Bashevkin Top 5 Moments of the Kinus
Day in the Life
Rachel Bachrach Chaim White of KC Kosher Co-op
When Less is More
Rabbi Ron Yitzchok Eisenman How a good edit enhances a manuscript
It’s My Job
Jacob L. Freedman “Will you force me to take meds?”
They’re Still Playing My Song?
Riki Goldstein Yitzy Bald’s Yerav Na
Yisroel Werdyger Can’t Stop Singing
Riki Goldstein Ahrele Samet’s Loi Luni
Double Chords of Hope
Riki Goldstein You never know how far your music can go
Will Dedi Have the Last Laugh?
Dovid N. Golding Dedi and Ding go way back
Battle of the Budge
Faigy Peritzman Using stubbornness to grow in ruchniyus
The Challenging Child
Sarah Chana Radcliffe Strategies for raising the difficult child
Bucking the Trend
Sara Eisemann If I skip sem, will I get a good shidduch?
The Musician: Part 1
D. Himy, M.S. CCC-SLP and Zivia Reischer "If she can't read she'll be handicapped for life!"