The whole nine months of my pregnancy with our daughter was a happy time. The doctor who’d agreed to deliver our baby, and who knew I was a Christian Scientist, told me, “You do your thing (pray), and I’ll do mine (deliver); but don’t neglect your baby.”
I didn’t. My prenatal care was thorough. I ate and exercised normally, and yet I didn’t obsess over either. I also spent precious time each morning studying the Holy Bible and Science and Health, praying to keep my thoughts close to God. I’d listen for my “daily bread”—His thoughts, which nourished me spiritually. I knew I could count on God’s thoughts to properly protect and care for the baby and me. I was looking to God for soundness of mind, substance, character. Leaning on God’s promises in the Bible removed my fears along the way.
About the time the baby was due, my husband’s company transferred us to a city hundreds of miles away. We moved immediately. As soon as we got there, we found a doctor who agreed to deliver the baby. A blood test was taken. And then another—just to confirm the results of the first test. The doctor said it was the most severe anemia he’d seen in 15 years of medical practice.
