The question of God intervening in our lives is one I’ve wondered about too. At times, I have sought that intervention without it being given – at least not in the manner I’d desired. Yet, at other times I have been ambushed by too many things being *just right* for them all to be coincidental. I have to agree with m&m that His involvement will astound us when all is made known.
Congratulations on the addition to your family.

And that connection with giving birth — *particularly* in such an experience as yours — and the 23rd psalm is simply stunning.

The tender mercies you experiences were plentiful, and I loved how you captured some of them, from friends to scriptures to emotional and spiritual strength…but most of all to have your wife and daughter come through the valley of the shadow of death and not be called to pass that threshold.

I have been thinking about your reflections today, and I think we all have felt that struggle of why some things work out ‘well’ and some don’t, and if and how God is involved. I can’t help but think that we will be simply astounded when we realize how involved God has been, even if we can’t see or understand it now in our limited mortal sphere…how even the grossest injustices to our mortal sensibilities will have an eternal sense of justice and mercy that will bring us to our knees in awe and gratitude for the plan and for the Atonement.

Congratulation to you, Taryn and Artemis. I am very happy for you.

AB

I could relate to a lot of what you were feeling. I too feel the terrible burden of being voice for a blessing in a dire situation. Once when I was a green missionary a pregant woman’s fetus had the umbilical cord wrapped around its neck or something (I forget the details), and the doctors were saying she would lose the baby. They were an inactive couple, but they asked for a blessing. My companion and I and the WML were there, and we all were almost fighting over who would offer that blessing; none of us wanted to touch it with a ten-foot pole. As I recall, we made the WML do it. And the baby did indeed die. A horrible situation.

I also remember the helplessness I felt when I was kicked out of the delivery room when my son Grant was being born, “stat” announcements were made and just like that a team of about 15 doctors and nurses were surrounding my wife. Something had gone wrong with her epidural, and she almost died. I too could see through a little window, and felt nothing but absolute and utter helplessness. But they got the ship righted without the same kind of trauma Taryn had to go through.

All of which is to say that your account really resonated with me.

Both my sons had to spend extra time in the hospital either right after birth (Alex was in the ICU for two days), or shortly thereafter (Drew had to be brought back to the hospital about two weeks after he was born, and stayed there for almost two weeks.) Your post recalled to me the awful intensity of those times, and my feelings of helplessness. Olivia, too (Alex’s mother) was on her last legs during delivery. There are places in the world – and a whole history of the world – where both mother and baby may well have died. Reminds of something Olivia says whenever someone talks about natural childbirth. She says, “Remember, death is natural.” Hurrah for science!!

You’re a good, honest and very bright man, who loves his family. Worthy of the place you hold. It strikes me that you think too much. But I tell you that the day will come when you will give blessings with complete confidence as the Lord’s words pass easily and surely from your lips.

Best to you and your family.

~

On the medical side, a wide variety of drugs (called amnestics) have that effect, and are used routinely in a variety of settings. It’s a sign of poor quality care if a patient remembers through one of those drugs. (The most commonly used class is benzodiazepines, of which VALIUM is the culturally most familiar.)

As to the “intervention” question, I also am torn – but I have no doubt whatsoever that He does in some of the most unexpected ways. Perhaps there is a reason for that – so we don’t reach the point where we fail to appreciate the truly miraculous.