The time was getting nearer for our baby to be born. I had been having contractions all day. I figured our baby would be born that night or the next day when I went to my scheduled appointment.

I crawled out of bed to go use the bathroom-again. Anyone who has ever been pregnant knows that this is a ritual done virtually every night in the latter stages of pregnancy. Go to the bathroom, go to bed, wait ten minutes, get up again to use the bathroom, and the cycle continues until you finally fall asleep.

As I sat on the toilet, I began to get excited because I thought my water had broken. But the flow didn’t stop. I called for Steve to come in and turn on the light.

My fears were confirmed. I had been filling the toilet with blood. As Steve ran to get the phone to call 911, I fell on to the floor.

I knew at that moment, I was probably going to die. I even told Steve I was going to die. I was not fearful, just matter of fact. I don’t remember thinking about our children at that point, but I did not want to leave Steve.

I wish I could say it was like the movies where the world stands stil for a moment as a man cradles his wife’s body in his arms as she whispers her final words, “I love you” to him.

But this was not anything like the movies.There were arrangements that had to be made. Steve called a sitter to come stay with the children, and then he called my sister to pray.

By now the ambulance had arrived. The paramedics gave me oxygen, put an IV in my arm, and began pumping fluids through my veins. I began to feel better, but I was still pretty sure I was not going to make it. I was not frightened. In fact, I really felt quite peaceful.

A second ambulance came. The intention was to load me up,meet another ambulance, and switch me to it; however, the third ambulance was only six miles away, so we waited for it.

The big dilemma was how to get me down the stairs. Do paramedics only deal with people on ground floors? Their biggest fear was that I was going to deliver the baby. At one point, one of the ambulance crew put the pulse monitor on my finger.

“Ow!” I groaned.

The paramedic got a little panicky and asked, “Are you having the baby?”

“No, you pinched my finger.” We all chuckled.

I was worried my children would wake up, but none of them stirred from their rooms, so I assumed all the children were asleep. Little did I know, Ashley was wide-awake in her room. She knew that was the best place for her to stay. She watched from her window as I was placed into the back of the ambulance. She even took a picture of the ambulances in the driveway. She thought it was the last time she might ever see me. After we were gone, Ashley came out of her room and prayed with the sitter.

The ambulance ride seemed really fast. If I weren’t in the back, I would have thought it quite exciting to see three ambulances whizzing past with lights and sirens. Steve rode up front and prayed even more intensely when the attendant with me in the back told the driver, “Floor it!”

I was freezing. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering. My blood pressure was dangerously low.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I was greeted by more people than I could remember. Some guy started doing an ultrasound. They seemed unconcerned that my baby was going to die if they didn’t take it out.

But I was still peaceful. I later found out that I was in shock and taking me into the operating room at that time would have had dire consequences. After three ultrasounds, they finally prepped me for surgery.

Once in the operating room, I only remember a calmness. I felt like someone was praying for me. It was really quite a pleasant feeling. At one point I asked if anyone noticed from the ultrasound the sex of my baby.

Only the anesthesiologist responded. He kindly leaned over to me and said, “We weren’t looking.” I just wanted to know what sex my baby would be when I arrived in heaven with it.

Steve waited in the hallway while the surgery took place. As he watched through the window and could see only doctors, nurses, and a whole lot of blood, he felt an unusual peace, too. He was uncomfortable feeling so peaceful. He was sitting in a chair at the end of the hallway and would begin to think, I should be worried. Then he would start to worry. He would get up, walk to the operating room window, look in, and even with a view of lots of blood, he would again become peaceful. He could feel God’s presence with him.

The next thing I knew, several hours had passed. When I awoke, someone told me I had a boy. The doctors were worried the baby had inhaled blood into his lungs, so they were sending him to a children’s hospital an hour and a half away. A nurse wheeled the baby into my room. He had a ventilator tube in his mouth and a tube sticking out of his belly button. The doctor had sent a scope of some kind up through his umbilical cord to his heart.

As I looked at him I thought, That isn’t really my baby.

His fate was still unknown. The doctor said the baby probably had massive brain damage. The outlook for him was bleak, but I still had an incredible peace.

Over the course of the next several days, even weeks, the pieces began to fit together. I had a condition known as placenta accreta. My placenta was in full praevia position, but my placenta had grown through my uterine wall and attached to several of my organs. The doctor was unable to stop the bleeding. He had to perform a hysterectomy.

At one point during the surgery, my blood pressure bottomed out and my oxygen levels dropped below 50 percent. After they pumped twelve units of “new” blood into me, my condition began to improve. When I finally came out of the anesthesia, my chances had gone from slim to much improved.

Our son also improved gradually. While he rode in the ambulance to the other hospital, they told us his breathing improved; and he even opened his eyes for the first time. They were able to reduce the ventilator to 60 percent. Every report from then on was positive as God multiplied His blessings to us.

After five days I was able to go home, but home is not where I went. I went to the bedside of my son, Bryan. I had to wait an hour and a half before I could hold him. He nursed right away, and we were able to take him home the next day. It didn’t appear that he had any brain damage.

I believe that the Lord had been preparing me for this almost my entire pregnancy. It was a miserable pregnancy. It was the first time I was questioning if I really wanted to go through having another baby. But in my heart, I knew I could not do anything to prevent a pregnancy. Steve and I felt convicted that we should let God be in control of our family size. We knew God was the Creator of life. Children were blessings to be desired.

At one point during my pregnancy, I told the Lord in prayer that if I were not to have anymore children it would have to be by His hand, not by ours. I did not know when I went to bed on Feb 11, 1998 as I lovingly touched my round belly that that would be the last time I would ever feel a baby kick within my body. I was thirty-three when Bryan, my eighth child, was born. I figured I could possibly have another eight before I was through. It is so easy to take fertility for granted.

Since that night, my life has changed dramatically. The little things don’t seem to matter anymore. My children could have been without a mommy. My husband could have been without a wife. I would have been in heaven, so I probably wouldn’t have cared too much.

The Lord has given me a new life. I really thought when I came home from the hospital that I would be perfect. For some reason I felt that I had almost touched the hand of God, so somehow that would make me a perfect mommy. Right away, I blew it. So, I’m not going to get to be perfect-yet! But I won’t stop trying!

I’m enjoying my life more, enjoying my children more, and enjoying my husband more. So many things seem to get in the way of what is really important. I hope that I never get to a point again when I cannot marvel at God for saving the life of my son and myself. I hope that I will not forget to marvel at the blue sky, the snow-covered grass,the intoxicating smell of a newborn baby, a two-year-old singing “Jesus Wuvs Me,” and the sparkle in the eyes of a child when you throw all abandon to the wind and say, “Let’s have soda-pop for lunch!”

When God saved my life, He put a new beat in my heart, more spring in my step, joy in my soul, and a miracle in my arms.

In the mundane, there is life!

©2001-present Terri Camp “I’m Going to be the Greatest Mom Ever….Even if it Kills Me”

The irony was incredible to me. I never worried about “this” for her life. She was the one in our house who was the strongest proponent of purity. She was the one who confidently let me know that there was NO WAY she would ever sleep with a boy unless she was married. She was the one who put her life on hold to help me when I needed her. She was strong! Resolute! Morally Upright. And now … pregnant.
The first words out of my mouth were, “In our house, children are a blessing, no matter what the circumstances are.” Within seconds I knew that the best direction would be for me to support her 100 percent. She began telling me the plans she was making. I also wanted her to know that this was not the time to make the decisions. I felt strongly that she needed to know that everything would work out just fine, and that I would be there, by her side through the whole thing.

There are so many “life happenings” that we are unprepared to handle. I remember once telling someone, “Oh, I could never go through THAT!” I’m not sure what the THAT was, but I knew at the time I wouldn’t be able to go through it. It was around the time I found out about my oldest being molested that I realized, I didn’t need to know that I could go through it, until it was time. I needed my strength through the battle, not worrying about what might come in my future.

I’m so thankful that we don’t have to think about what may come in order for us to be able to handle it with grace and courage. You know…life is tough sometimes. For some reason, I thought it would get easier. On one hand it sort of has, because I’m stronger now. I remember once looking up to heaven telling God, “By the way God, I’m a wimp! Just thought I’d let you know. All this stuff getting thrown at me, I can’t handle it.” I’m pretty sure He’s standing there taking the brunt of most of my “stuff” only letting a few things pass through that He knows I can handle. So, when I’ve feeling overwhelmed, I just have to remember that this stuff has gone through God already, and HE thinks I can take it. And if HE thinks I can handle it – then by golly – I can handle it…even if I am a wimp.

For Tina, about a month away from giving birth now, it can sometimes seem overwhelming. However, she has a great support team. She’ll be able to live here with us while she continues taking college courses and working. They even told her she could bring the baby to work. One of her concerns was how she was going to be able to afford all the stuff that goes along with having a baby. (I certainly am not able to help right now) Her workplace had a surprise baby shower for her (Ask me about the games!!! I got to plan them!). After the shower, Tina was sitting on her bed, looking like a huge load had been released from her. She said to me, “I got everything I need! That was the biggest stress for me, and God took care of it.” One loan tear droped out of her eye.

Even though we hate watching our kids struggle with the choices they make, it’s totally awesome when we get to see them realize that God is taking care of them in the midst of those choices.

I’m not a fan of rap, but I know a good message when I hear one.
It’s now got me talking in rhyme, but not reason.

It’s worse than reading Doctor Suess to my kids.
I spent too much time, watching their vids.

And now I must let you go cuz I’ve got work to do.
So, peace out, and I hope you enjoy the vid too.

The number one reason most resolutions fail is because we are focusing on the negatives that we want to change. I know some of you are saying (with a snotty attitude), “So, It’s good to become a better person.” I’m going to go on record right now to tell you –

• YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH!
• YOU ARE AN AWESOME PERSON!
• YOU ARE ALREADY A BETTER PERSON!

The problem I have with all of these themes of change in our lives is that it forces us to focus on the negatives or weaknesses in our lives. In an effort to be a better person we try to get rid of the negatives. What that does is it makes us put so much focus into those negatives.

This year I would like to challenge you to not create resolutions, but rather New Year’s Enhancements!
The Bible tells us that we are created in His image, that we are a temple of the Holy Spirit, and that He knit us together. That is incredible!

My New Year’s Enhancements are going to be based on those three aspects of my created being.
If I believe that I am created in His image, then He has created me with the strengths he wants me to have. Make a list of your strengths – go ahead, take a long time. It really is okay to think about the strengths that you have. In our weakness, He is made strong. Let Him have your weakness, you enhance your strengths.

One of my strengths is that I maintain a positive attitude in spite of extreme difficulties. I am almost ashamed to admit this, but there have been times that I’ve attempted to stifle that positive attitude, because I thought it would come across to others in a negative way. How dumb is that?! This year, I’m not going to squelch my strengths! I’m going to enhance them.

After you make your strengths list, write at least one sentence for each strength of how you can enhance that strength. Using the example of “Being Positive” – When a positive thought enters my mind, I will either speak it out loud or type it.

I am the temple of the Holy Spirit. I’ve often heard sermons on this that are horribly negative. The preacher will say things like, “The Holy Spirit doesn’t want to dwell in a body that is fat, or smoking, or whatever…” WHAT? Since when did the Holy Spirit require that we get cleaned up first?

My New Year Enhancement is that I am going to be cognizant that the Holy Spirit has chosen to dwell in me – in my present condition. He has not given me a list of things I must do in order for him to stick around. He likes me. He likes to hang out with me. I want to enhance His dwelling place.

God knitted me. I am one of his creation. How cool is that? I’ve often thought that I was a huge disappointment to God. But when I think about that He created me, without even saying, “oops” – that truth enhances my life!

I’m going to challenge you to try to throw away the idea that you have to become something you aren’t. Spend some time reflecting on what you really offer to the people around you. This year, rather than focussing on changing the negative, enhance those things that make you uniquely you!

]]> http://terricamp.com/new-year%e2%80%99s-enhancements/feed/ 0 http://terricamp.com/on-my-knees/ http://terricamp.com/on-my-knees/#comments Tue, 27 Jan 2009 03:57:55 +0000 Admin http://terricamp.com/?p=51 From my book, I”m Going to be the Greatest Mom Ever…Even if it Kills Me! ©2001 and ©2006 Multnomah Publishers

Have you ever secretly identified with the women who just “up and leave” their families, who are gone without a trace? When people say, “How could a mom ever do such a thing?” have you ever thought to yourself, I wonder if that will be my story on the news someday?

As much as I hate to admit it, I have imagined myself walking down the airport terminal destined for a place of peace, tranquility, and simplicity.

I seem to want to escape to a deserted island particularly when I have a nearly two-year-old in the house. I have been training the babe since birth to obey my every command, and then suddenly the child looks me in the eye and says, “NO!” That’s my ticket. I do not like hearing the word “no” from my child. It means only one thing. It means there is going to be a test, and I better come out with an A+ or I might as well board the plane.




Ashley was very compliant as a toddler. Then Christi came along and corrupted her. I think Christi would whisper into Ashley’s ear what the next “plan” was. Christi and Ashley often put me to the test, and many times I failed.

When Christi and Ashley were two and three-years old, we had just moved to a new town. Ten days before we moved, I had Cathy by C-section. The doctor instructed me I was not to go up or down any stairs for six weeks. For some reason we rented an apartment with stairs. It was a tiny apartment. You know the kind—you can sit on the couch on one side of the room and change channels on the television without a remote from the other side of the room.

While we lived in the apartment Ashley and Christi pretty much had the run of the house—literally. Whenever they wanted to disobey me, they would just bolt up the stairs because they knew I could not run after them. Needless to say, I lost their respect very quickly.

Finally we purchased a house and mom could now run! I decided it was time to once again lay down the law. In the apartment, the kids just played all day instead of taking naps because I didn’t have the energy to make them go to bed.

My first tactic to regain my post as commander in charge was to reinstitute naptime. The first day of the new naptime is one Mommy Memory that I will never forget. It was definitely a “buy me a one-way ticket” day. I tucked the girls into their beds and quietly closed the door. A few minutes later as I walked by their room, I could hear a squeaking noise. I opened the door and there were two very happy children jumping on their beds, trying to touch the ceiling. I scolded them and told them to get back in their beds. They got back under the covers, so I closed the door. This time I stood outside the door and listened. A few seconds later I heard giggling and squeak, squeak, squeak.

I threw open the door and screamed. “Girls, get back in bed or else I’m going to…” “Kill” was the only word I could think of at the moment. Instead of taking me seriously, they just laughed at me and continued to jump. I was quickly overtaken with a desire to hurt them. I left them jumping as I ran out of the room crying.

I knew at that moment I needed a one-way ticket. I had had it with being a mommy. Not only was I sleep-deprived from taking care of a newborn, I couldn’t even make two little girls take a nap. I felt my life was spinning wildly out of my control. I was so desperate, I called a crisis hotline. Can you believe the person who answered the hotline told me there was no one available to talk to me? She told me to phone 911. So I did.

Now I must tell you I did not know anything about child training at the time. The only way I knew how to make my children obey was through anger. When I phoned 911, the dispatcher asked me if I had a gun. I was stunned by the question. “I don’t want to kill them. I just want them to take a nap.” I said.
“We’ll send someone right over,” she said. Two police men came and checked out everything. Basically they told me they didn’t think I was at risk of actually harming my children. I was just under a lot of stress.
They called a pastor and asked him to visit with me. I didn’t want to visit with a pastor. I just wanted a one-way ticket to the Bahamas. Well, the pastoral visit was actually good for me, and I cancelled my plans for a lifetime getaway.

Sometimes the most trivial tasks (such as washing the dishes) can turn into “one-way ticket” days . One morning I had forgotten to buy soap for the dishwasher, so I told Ashley to use some Tide instead. Soon after she turned it on, the dishwasher began to sound “funny.”

I pondered what I should do but then thought, It’s not like you turn off an appliance every time it makes a funny sound. And if I turn it off, I will have to do all the dishes by hand!

I continued to let it run. Boy, did it run—all over the floor. Suds and water were pouring out all over the carpet that I had spent “hours” cleaning a few days earlier.




I ran into the laundry room for some dirty towels and squished them up under the dishwasher, continuing to let it run. I just kept telling myself, I am not going to wash all those dishes by hand!

As I was kneeling on the floor, trying to “will” the water to stop pouring all over the floor, I began pitying myself. I hate this job! I’m sick of wet, smelly carpet. I hate having carpet in the kitchen. I began feeling all alone in a house of ten. I began thinking of all the “things” that I do like washing dishes, dirty clothes, fixing breakfast, lunch, and dinner, every single day. I wash hair and little pink bottoms. I wash windows, mirrors, and toilets. I am constantly cleaning messes that I never make.

I was having a major case of PPMS (Poor Pitiful Me Syndrome). Then I began to think of all the things that I really wanted to do, but never got a chance to do, like sitting all afternoon reading a book on the couch, driving anyplace I would like to go without having to make babysitting arrangements. I even considered where I would go with my “one-way ticket.”

Being the household janitor wasn’t my vision of being a wife and a mom. My vision seemed a little happier, a little less messy, with a lot fewer things going wrong to mess up everything.

Then a realization hit me like a ton of bricks: Being a servant to my family is where the Lord wants me. He wants me to spend my time serving my family. He wants me to die to myself and serve them, thereby serving Him!

Before the dishwasher episode, the Lord had been trying to get my attention. Several times while I was driving alone in my van, all of a sudden I would be overwhelmed with a feeling that I needed to pull over, get out of my car, and get on my face before God.

Now, do you think I obeyed the Lord? No, I didn’t. The sheer craziness of the idea held me back; however, I could have gone straight home, found a place to be alone with God and gotten on my face then and there. But as soon as I walked in the door there would be groceries to put away, kids who needed to be fed, and housework that needed to be done. Falling on my face before the Lord would somehow just escape my mind. Because I failed to listen in the quiet moments, the Lord had to use an overflowing dishwasher to get my attention. There I was on my hands and knees crying my heart out to God as water poured out of the dishwasher, and a two-year-old climbed on my back yelling, “Moooommmmyyyyy!” I began to cry.

“What do you want me to do, Lord?” I moaned.

His reply was so loud it sounded as if He was right next to me. He said, “I want you on your knees! I don’t care if you’re wearing a skirt or jeans. I want you on your knees! It doesn’t matter if you’re tired or overwhelmed. I want you on your knees! Broken dishwasher, plumbing problems, “tantrumming” toddlers, soaked kitchen carpet doesn’t matter. I want you on your knees!”

It was at that moment, I got on my face before Him. I begged Him to change my attitude. I asked Him to show me how to serve my family in a more godly way. I pleaded with Him to come in and wash all the filth out of me. As I lay there weeping, He spoke His Word to me.

“Come now, and let us reason together,” says the LORD. “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be as wool. If you are willing and obedient, you shall eat the good of the land…” (Isaiah 1:18-19)

I thanked the Lord for hearing my prayers and secretly hoped He would see fit to bless me with a round-trip ticket to the Bahamas.

]]> http://terricamp.com/on-my-knees/feed/ 0 http://terricamp.com/the-man-upstairs/ http://terricamp.com/the-man-upstairs/#comments Tue, 27 Jan 2009 03:43:01 +0000 Admin http://terricamp.com/?p=47 I was listening to a radio broadcast today which was raising money for Cook’s Children’s Hospital. They were interviewing a mom who was going through a difficult ordeal with her child. My heart went out to her in a powerful way. My comments are not in any way to be construed negatively toward her. I think she was surprised by a microphone in her face asking questions. She made this comment, “The man upstairs doesn’t give us more than we can take or put more on our plate.”

Immediately I said, “Invite Him downstairs!”

Her comment reminded me of a time in my life when I felt like God was very distant to me. Life was moving along, but I was not feeling particularly close to God. I was driving my car to go talk to my daughter who was in a relationship that she shoudn’t have been in. I was thinking about all the little things that had been happening in the past few months, wondering where God was in the midst of it. I looked up to the sky and outloud I said, “Hello God! Are you really out there?” He didn’t say anything.

It was only a few hours later, driving my car back home, when I felt His presence fill my car as He wrapped His arms around me, promising me that He was going to walk this difficult journey along with me.
I recounted all the times I had said to myself, “I would never be able to go throught ‘that’.” Of course we aren’t equiped to go through the difficulties that we don’t have to go through. The grace of God comes flooding us only when we need it.

I’ve always hated that comment that he will never give us more than we can bear. I’m sure I’m going to step on a few toes here, but the scripture reference people use for that is related to temptations not issues of life. It would really be more appropriate to say His grace is sufficient. If you haven’t had to rely on that grace though, you almost can’t comprehend it.

I don’t think of God as being “the man upstairs” “someone watching from a distance” or even a “great cosmic slot machine.”

My God is there with me every step of the way. He’s like a coat that I wear throughout my day, always there, guiding me, and keeping me safe and warm.

If God is “the man upstairs” in your life. Invite Him to come where you are. He loves hanging out with us.

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