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| Leslie w/ daughter Mackenzie Belle & Husband Mark |
This is a story of God’s love and mercy … a story of how one congregation and one small community came to the aid of a family in need.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God, trust also in me…”
The date was August 23, 1991. I remember that day like it was yesterday. I was pregnant with my 3rd child, and I was bleeding.
My husband Mark and I found ourselves in the office of my obstetrician, Dr. John Alaniz, who concluded after numerous tests that I had a condition called placental abruption (PA). The Doctor explained that PA was an uncommon yet serious complication of pregnancy. He went on to tell us that my placenta had begun to peel away from the uterine wall (probably because of the trauma from the kidney stone I had just passed). He told us that the placenta had separated about 50% and because the placenta nourishes the growing baby, it was vital that the placenta stay attached for the remainder of the pregnancy.
Dr. Alaniz added that the heavier the baby, the more dangerous the situation. If the placenta were to separate completely, I would begin to hemorrhage and it would be fatal for us both. I was put on bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy, and told I could only get out of bed to use the restroom.
I remember Dr. Alaniz asking if we were going to be okay. I don’t remember how we answered, but I do remember feeling hopeless. I remember crying with Mark. The Doctor told us that the ultimate goal was to keep the baby inside the womb for at least 36 weeks—I was only 12 weeks along. Mark and I cried some more, went home and I went to bed.
We were terrified. How were we going to care for our two young daughters and do what needed to be done to save our baby? I knew that God would deliver us; I just couldn’t imagine HOW.
In the midst of this fear and uncertainty, our journey began.
“Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant”
At that time, Mark and I, along with our two girls Lindsay (age 8) and Melanie (age 3), lived in Houston and had been members of the same church, Bammel Road, for the past 9 years. The congregation was informed of our situation within a day’s time, and our friends and family began calling to tell us that we had been put on prayer lists/chains all over Texas. Mark converted our bedroom into an efficiency apartment. Friends brought over a small fridge, a TV and extra shelving (since I couldn’t go downstairs to the kitchen for food). Another friend gave us a couple of egg crates for my mattress. Each morning during the work week, one of our close friends came by to dress Melanie, take her for the day, and bring her back when Mark got off work. If Mark was traveling, one of them would be over each morning to get Lindsay on the bus. A collection was taken up at church so that a housekeeper could come once a week to clean and a sign-up sheet went out so our meals could be covered until after the baby came.
Another friend called to say that she wanted to be in charge of getting all of our Christmas gifts; when it came time to shop, she just needed our list. Mothers from Lindsay’s 3rd grade class called periodically to see if they could help. One of our minister’s wives took me to my medical appointments each week. Our next-door neighbors came over and filled in whenever it was needed. Other friends came over with lunch, dropped by for visits, bought groceries, brought Thanksgiving dinner, sang carols at Christmas, brought Valentine’s dinner, and did my nails. Still others mowed our lawn each week, came over and picked up any dishes that needed to be returned, brought pizza and sundaes on Friday nights, and sent cards, letters, and gift cards. For over 6 months, our small community and our congregation surrounded us, took care of us, served us, loved us and met our EVERY need.
“The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.”
On March 3, 1992, our daughter Mackenzie Belle Speck was born. She weighed 7 pounds, 6 ounces, and was a beautiful, dark haired, healthy baby girl. Mackenzie turns 20 this March, and as I reflect back on that time, I am left with only one feeling: gratitude. Without the unconditional love and support from our community and congregation, my daughter and I might not be here today. Our story is indeed a testament to the sustaining and transformative power of God’s love, expressing itself through a community of individuals who all sacrificed for the love of a baby.
