About three weeks later, I noticed that my toes were very swollen and purple. I called the doctor, but he insisted there was nothing wrong. The next day I called again and told the doctor I thought I had a blood clot. He sent me in for an ultrasound to calm my fears. Since I still had a cast on my leg, the ultrasound technicians could only look behind my knee. My doctor declared me free of blood clots.
Afterwards I continued to have a lot of swelling, so I called the doctor and asked if the cast could be removed. He agreed and put me in a walking boot with firm instructions not to walk on that leg, since it wasn't yet healed.
Two days later when I tried to get out of my wheelchair and into bed, I had difficulty catching my breath. I thought maybe I was just out of shape, but my husband was so concerned that he took me to the hospital.
All of the tests came back normal, but the doctor in the ER said she was going to give me a CT scan "for malpractice purposes only."
About ten minutes later, I heard everyone in the ER running around. The doctor, looking pale, opened the curtain surrounding my hospital bed. I saw a nurse standing behind her with a bag of Heparin, a medicine used to thin the blood and prevent blood clots.
She told me that I had an extensive bilateral pulmonary embolism. I started to cry, terrified that I was going to die. Not only were my lungs filled with blood clots, but there was a huge clot left in my leg that the previous ultrasound had not shown. The doctor replied, "We are going to do the best we can for you."
I was in the ICU for two days when a doctor told me I was going to die. He advised me to plan my funeral and write letters to my kids to open on their special days after I passed.
I was in shock. I had not told any of my clients that I was sick—or pregnant. How did she know I was in the hospital? My husband hadn't told anyone I was there.
I turned off my phone and cried. I read the Bible with new conviction and prayed the whole day. I found faith.
The next day I requested another ultrasound on my leg to look at the blood clot. I had faith that God had healed me. It took three ultrasound technicians to find the clot—it had shrunk overnight! Although the clots in my lungs were still there, they were not life-threatening and would continue to be treated with medicine.
Four days later I was released. The doctor called it a miracle. I proceeded to have a full-term pregnancy. During the delivery I had to have a C-section, which was extremely dangerous considering I was on blood thinners, and I was told that I could bleed to death during surgery. But I still kept my faith in God and did not lose an ounce of blood.
Today, almost one year later, I am well and free of any blood clots, and the proud mother of a happy, healthy baby boy. Having faith, believing in prayer, and giving my life to God was all God wanted.