That’s what my aunt said to me when I said, “But how did you…?” I queried as my aunt announced she was sipping coffee in the hotel not half a mile from our home (I was in the hospital lobby freaking out about an unexpected medical procedure that I’d wanted to avoid).
“Divine intervention, sweetie!” was her confident reply.
She and her traveling companion had driven through Wisconsin the day and night before to get here, propelled by nothing but God’s urging.
Only He could know my amniotic fluid would be increase to the point that the midwives would have to refer me to the OBs.
Only He could know that the baby would be transverse and the midwives would have to refer me to the OBs for a version, a process I did want want to experience.
Only He could know that the schedule was full at the hospital and they’d send me home, scheduling the version for Thursday.
Only He could know that the midwife on call Thursday had delivered our first two sons and knew my body and our wishes better than anyone.
Only He could orchestrate my aunt’s arrival the day before our oldest son’s birthday so the boys could get familiar with her.
Only He could bring a family member with medical training, from-scratch cooking skills (cause I had nothing prepared in advance), and a love for our children.
Divine intervention? Hmmm…I don’t think so. I think it was part of His plan. Scripture says he planned the end from the beginning. He knew. The intervention was interrupting my fear with a reminder that He is faithful. God is in the details and He brought my sweet aunt into town to prove it.
If there is one regret I have, it is that I didn’t trust Him more with this process. I’m still a work in progress. Thankfully, He is intervening there, too.
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