The very last thing you need is a socially acceptable drug pusher/curse giver.

I had my first experience with drugs delivering my first child, Vann.  It was Demerol and it was terrifying in a situation where I was already in an abyss of fear.

Next came a double dose (I supposedly had “displaced nerves”) of that crud they put in my spine with Jane’s birth.  My doctor actually tried to talk me out of it, saying, “You’re almost there.  You can do this.”  I have fond memories of him, if not of the effects of those horrible nightmare-inducing drugs.

I had a marvelous Christian doctor with Benjamin, who respected the human body, and the birth was a wonderful experience.  The doctor had nurses trained in midwifery, there were no IV’s, nothing disrespecting to the body and emotions of a woman at the most vulnerable time of her life.  This doctor was a former abortionist, who had become a Christian and was on a mission to save as many babies as possible.  He delivered three other babies that night and at other hospitals, thereby missing Benjamin’s birth by three minutes.  He cried.  We rejoiced.

But then the fun was over.  I was told to abort Hannah, that I wouldn’t survive the pregnancy.  When I refused to abort the doctor yelled, “You don’t understand!”  “No,” I said.  “YOU don’t understand.” See www.thewarmjournal.com for how that turned out and rest assured I changed doctors.

When Hannah was born, a healthy 8-plus pounds, she was taken immediately to ICU (due to medical error).  After two days I was told I had to go home and leave her there for at least two weeks.   I called everyone I knew who would pray in faith and I said, “NO!”

If I had to sit on the hospital lawn, and come inside every time they poked and prodded her, to hold her and nurse her and rock her back to sleep, that’s what I would do.  These people caused her problems (36 units of Pitocin and me so many long hours without food because the doctor on call was determined Hannah would be born on her watch, causing not only respiratory issues, but blood sugar as well) and they sure weren’t going to be left alone with her for two weeks.

The morning following my order to exit, I walked into ICU to see the neonatologist and his assistants covered in lead vests, standing over the naked and unprotected chest of my child as they x-rayed her and she screamed in terror.  Before I could protest (what else could they possibly think of to do to her – her entire heels were massive scabs from the incessant prodding with needles, there were needles in her head and pads on her chest) the neonatologist said, “It’s a miracle.  Her lungs are completely clear.  She can go home, but she’ll have to be on oxygen at least two weeks.”  Wrong again.  The nurse who came to our home daily to monitor Hannah, announced after three days that there was really no need for her to be on oxygen.

Hannah wouldn’t have anything to do with anyone but me for eleven months, but other than that, there have been no ill effects.  I prayed with a vengeance that not only would Hannah be a healthy child, but that she would be the healthiest of all my children.  And she is and has always been.  If the others caught a bug, she would skip it, or have only the slightest of symptoms.  She is strong and energetic and a picture of health.  So, too, is her little sister Rebekah.

I was told I would never conceive again, with that ever present attitude of, “You’re not Mormon or Catholic, so why are you having all these kids?”  Well, let’s not go there.  Along came Rebekah. I was told I couldn’t carry Rebekah, that I would miscarry.  When that didn’t happen I was told I would not be able to have a natural birth with her.  Wrong again.

After still more abuses at the hands of physicians with Seth’s birth (let me say here that I always had the best of nurses) I was finished with the world’s way of “healing” and went with God’s.

If you have had enough of the “cut and drug” medical world, try Jesus.  Get in the Word of God and see what it says.  You’ll find the One who created you can also heal you.  You’ll find that plants are to be our medicines.  And if you’re unfortunate enough to belong to a denomination teaching that “healing and miracles have passed away” just pray for them and keep on reading what your Maker says.  He is, believe it or not, smarter than many “interpreters” of what He says.

P.S.  I haven’t been to see an establishment medical doctor since I left the hospital at Seth’s birth, over 16 years ago, and I get healthier every day.

P.P.S.  And I sure as heck am no user of drugs, be they legal or otherwise.  Or as they used to say where I grew up, “I aint no doper.”