It’s not time for this baby to be born, thought the mother as she hurried to the hospital to deliver her tenth child. Only five months into this pregnancy, she was surprised to feel the familiar labor pains. When the baby was delivered, the doctor said, “Ma’am, you have nine children waiting for you at home. You did not deliver another baby—you had an undeveloped fetus that didn’t survive. The doctor put the fetus in a cloth and threw it in the garbage.
“Where is my baby?” the mother kept asking, but the answer was always the same: “You had an undeveloped fetus.” But the mother wasn’t convinced. Once the nurses left, she looked into the garbage and saw the cloth moving. When she lifted it, there was her baby, still breathing.
Taking a clean cloth, she wrapped up the “fetus,” put him in her pocket, and went home to be greeted by her many children. “Where’s the baby?” they asked. The mother unwrapped the “fetus,” and there he was, still breathing.
Before long, however, the police came. She had stolen hospital property, they informed her— the “fetus!” “If you don’t return it,” they said, “we’ll take you to court.” “This is my child!” said the mother, refusing to hand her baby over to the police.
“If this ‘fetus’ dies under your care,” they responded, “you will go to jail for murder.” Refusing to be intimidated, she told them, “Then I will have to do my jailtime.”
A directive was then sent to all government clinics in the area, forbidding them to accept the “fetus” or mother for treatment. But God did not forget this desperate mother nor her premature infant. As she prayed, God impressed this mother with what she should do.
The baby was so tiny that his little mouth wasn’t large enough to nurse from his mother, so she put some of her milk into a small doll bottle to feed him. Because no incubator was available, she carefully placed him in the sun each day. The baby strengthened and grew.
One day, however, the baby became very ill, and the mother had to bring him back to the hospital, where she met the same doctor and nurses. They were all perplexed, because the “fetus” was still alive. Getting on her knees, the mother pleaded with the doctor, begging him to help her baby.
He desperately needed a blood transfusion, but the hospital had only one unit of blood available, and it had not been screened. The mother asked that they give it to him anyway, or he would die. She prayed as she watched them put the unscreened blood into the fetus. The doctor assured the mother that the fetus would not survive past midnight. At 6:00 a.m. the “fetus” was still alive.
By this time the doctor was amazed. He had never seen anything like this. So now he had another idea: “Let’s get in contact with Jamaica and arrange with them to take him to one of their hospitals to see how long this ‘fetus’ can live.” The mother refused. “My child is not a guinea pig or a lab rat!”
The police officers were called in order to ensure that this crazy woman wouldn’t steal the fetus again. Determined to take her baby home, the woman came up with a plan—she would go to another ward of the hospital, create a big commotion, and when the officers were distracted, she would grab her baby and run. The plan worked, and she hurried home. Not far behind, however, were the police officers. Once again they threatened her with stealing hospital property, but she stayed her ground.
A year later the “fetus” still lived. But once more he became ill, and there was no choice but to return to the hospital, where once again she met the same doctor and the same staff.
Looking at the child, the doctor made his dire predictions: “This baby will be blind and crippled by the age of 2. He will be mentally disabled and will die at the age of 5.”
The mother took her treasure home and prayed.
To be continued