The doctors held out no hope, but we refused to give up on our baby

Shifra Wagner’s six-year-old son Chaim Eliyahu has been medically fragile since birth. She tells a story of powerful love, powerful emunah, and powerful determination as she fights to keep the precious neshamah she’s been entrusted with not just alive, but thriving

How can I describe the joy that wrapped around me when I realized that Hashem was gifting us with our fifth child? My husband, Yitzchok, and I were filled with gratitude and wonder. A new neshamah to guide and mold, another light in our home.

I picked up my siddur to daven, and my tefillos took on new meaning and greater intensity.

As my pregnancy progressed, my nausea tipped the charts, more intense than during my other pregnancies, and lasted well past the time it normally abated. Something didn’t feel right, and I was worried that my severe symptoms indicated a problem with the pregnancy.

When I shared my concerns with my doctor, he reassured me that everything was fine.

But at my 20-week sonogram, he noticed a possible issue and ordered a more detailed sonogram.

“The baby’s kidneys are dilated, and there is excess fluid,” he explained after seeing the second set of test results. “This can precipitate premature labor.”

As predicted, I went into labor at 25 weeks, but baruch Hashem, after a lot of intervention, they were able to stop it. My symptoms were worrisome, and the doctor raised the concern that the baby might have neurological issues. I davened fervently for a healthy child, feeling incapable of handling that type of challenge.

My mother moved in with us, and she was our lifeline during all those challenging months, keeping our home functioning and providing constant encouragement and support.

With agonizing slowness, nine weeks passed — nine weeks of worry, severe nausea, and tremendous pain any time I moved. And then I went into labor again. Our beautiful baby emerged this time, and we were blissfully relieved — he seemed completely healthy.

“The baby is breathing!” Laughing and crying, I called my mother to tell her the news, tears of joy rolling down my face. “He’s crying. Everything’s fine!”

We thought the nightmare was over, and our hearts were full. Doctors make mistakes — it happens all the time! Our baby weighed a healthy six pounds and even had chubby cheeks!