My Testimony of Healing (Longer Version)

 Hi. My name is Susan Nicholson and this is my testimony of being healed by the Lord. I am doing this to hopefully be of help to someone else and to give thanks to the Lord. Although I did receive a healing, this testimony is primarily about the baby I was carrying.


Before 1985:

My testimony goes back to over twenty-three years ago when I was in London, Ontario (Canada). My husband and I had been married a couple of years and I had wanted to get pregnant. I had thought it would be very easy as we were both in our twenties, but after a few months (6, if I recall), I realized it was not happening as easily as I thought it should.

Now, going back a little while before that, I'd been home sick from my job as a Special Education teacher, with a severe throat infection that had to be treated with antibiotics. While watching the T.V., I'd come across a show called "The 700 Club", which I'd never seen or heard of before. I found it very interesting as it contained an acted-out scene of a person who said he had been healed by the Lord of a very awful looking skin condition on his body. I had been raised in a "Christian" denomination but had never heard of people being healed in modern times, only in the days of Jesus on earth.

During the show, there was a short time of prayer during which they asked people to invite the Lord Jesus into their hearts and to ask forgiveness for their sins, which again, I'd never heard of doing this but I did it. After that, the people on the show began speaking out "messages of healing". One of the messages was that there was someone out there with a really bad throat and that the Lord was healing it. I remember I said something like "O Lord, let that be for me". Within a very short time (10- 15 minutes), I realized that I had no more pain, no more fever, no more swollen glands and felt well again. I wondered if I'd been "healed" but due to, at least partly, my previous years of conditioning in a secular educational system (public schools, University and Teacher's College), I dismissed it. I rationalized in my head that the antibiotics must have finally kicked in, so I was "instantly better" because of them. However, that healing set the groundwork for a crisis that was soon to come upon me.

A Miracle?

Now, although 6 months may not seem like a long time to some people to be trying to get pregnant, it seemed like forever to me then. After 6 months of trying, I started to realize that I might not be able to conceive, as I'd also been found to have a severe thyroid problem, which I was being treated for. I'd been told that sometimes having a thyroid condition can interfere with your ability to conceive. I was looking out at the night sky, feeling sad, when a Bible story I'd read as a child popped into my mind about a woman named Hannah. She also had not been able to conceive and had prayed for a child. She told the Lord that if He gave her a child, she would give him back to the Lord. She conceived and sent her child to live with the ruling priest of those days, Eli, after her boy had been weaned.

So, I prayed likewise and said that if the Lord gave me a child, I would raise him for the Lord, too. I did not know what that meant in these days, since I was not Jewish as Hannah had been. (After moving away from my hometown and being exposed for the first time to hearing a wide variety of different religious opinions, I really wasn't so sure of what I believed in about God anymore). I, too, conceived right away.

(At this point I'd like to say that over the years I've found out that some prayers are answered right away while others take more time. God knows what He's doing in your life. He knows what is best for you and when. I know now that I'd prayed correctly. I found out later that all of God's promises are "Yes" in Jesus and that one of those promises is for giving a barren woman a child (or children). Although I had a lot to learn about God and the Bible, the story about Hannah taught me that God wanted someone who was willing to give back to God their child, who would pay the price to see that their child was taught the ways of God. God knew I was sincere and would soon turn my life around as a result of this. Although I did not send my child to an Eli, we did try to do what was right by teaching him from the Bible. We also sent him to a Christian school and then home schooled him and his sisters (who came along later, also with the Lord's help), using a Christian educational program, until he was in high school. I also had to make a lot of changes in my own life and character as I taught him. I found out through teaching him (them) that I was also supposed to be living for the Lord every day, the Bible's way).

Early 1986:

I had gone in for testing at about six weeks (after morning sickness started to set in) and it was confirmed. I was ecstatic and phoned family members right away with the news that, on my side, the first grandchild was coming. His birth had been set as for Labour Day (no pun intended-it's a civic "holiday" here in Canada) weekend.

I started eating a more healthy diet, went in for my checkups and started the standard mandatory blood screening tests for problems at three months along. Shortly afterwards, I got a phone call from my family doctor, requesting that I come back in to have the tests repeated because they had received back the lab reports. He said that the lab results showed a serious problem and that they wanted to rule out any laboratory errors. So, I started reading about problems in pregnancies and went back to have the blood work redone. This time I got a phone call requesting me to come in to the doctor's office right away so that the doctor could speak to me.

The "Bombshell"

At my visit, the doctor drew some quick, kind of vague diagrams of the "fetus" inside of me at that point. All of a sudden my whole world changed. He explained to me that the second set of lab results had confirmed that something was very wrong with the "fetus". I was told that the results were due to a possibility of three reasons: 1) hydroencephaly 2) spina bifida or 3) anencephaly. He explained that hyroencephaly would probably be the best alternative to hope for- that they could put in a shunt after birth to drain off the fluid on the brain but that there was also a good possibility of mental retardation with it. The second meant that the fetus' spinal cord was damaged, probably developing outside of the body but the extent of the damage was not knowable at this stage of development. The third possibility was anencephaly where there would be very little brain tissue, just an outer shell of tissue and the "fetus" would either die before, at birth or shortly afterwards.

As you can imagine, I was reeling from this information only to be hit next with "It's not too late to get an abortion" ( as I was still under the twenty week date). He explained how he had just had another patient with similar results who had an abortion and the fetus had had spina bifida. I told him "No", that an abortion was definitely out of the question for me.

To be fair to others who have had this situation thrust upon them, I had a very distinct "extra" advantage over other people because not only had I been a teacher of the "profoundly challenged" but I had worked summers as a teenager with these people. I pretty well knew what I was up against. It was not that "scary, unknown realm" for me. I knew a lot of the realities but I also knew that I had learned just how very special these people really are. There was to be no abortion for this damaged "fetus", turned back to "baby" once the doctor knew I would not have an abortion.

He tried to talk me into having amniocentesis and explained it all to me. Strangely, while he was talking, he kept twirling a red pen with a lot of writing on it between his fingers and every time he stopped twirling it, the word "Abortion" was the word on the pen facing me. After this had happened several times, I believed that God was trying to tell me that if I had the amniocentesis done, that I would lose the baby. I knew this was a possible side effect of amniocentesis because I had been reading about it in one of the pregnancy books that I had bought. The statistics, even today, are 1/200 for miscarriage with amniocentesis. (During amniocentesis, they insert a thin needle through the mother's belly and uterus and withdraw amniotic fluid to gain more information). So, I said "No" again. He did talk me into having an ultrasound done, even though I didn't really want that either.

I was then sent to another doctor- a specialist who would assess me for any other possible causes for my highly abnormal blood results. They tested me for different diseases and conditions but nothing came up. I was advised by this doctor as well to consider having an abortion. It was not difficult for me to say "No" but I realize now how hard it must be for girls who know nothing about how babies develop or how rewarding and fun it can be to work with "challenged" people, to be able to stand up to the pressure, especially when the doctors present only one "solution" at the moment of decision. I personally have counted my years in working with "severely and profoundly challenged" people as being years that have helped me become a better, more humane person.

My family doctor then sent me to the top specialist for prenatal care in Ontario. I think he actually was the top in all of Canada. I don't remember right now for sure. I was classified as a "very high risk" patient and followed throughout my pregnancy by both this specialist and my own family doctor. When I first saw this specialist, I asked him if there was any way that the results could be wrong. He laughed and said something like "Your results are so far off the charts that there's no way there can be an error. Your numbers are about 10 (or did he say 20?) times outside the acceptable "outer outer" limits. He also discussed with me the possibility of an abortion that could be squeezed through, as I was getting close to 20 weeks along. I again said "No" and I think I must have given a "religious"-sounding reason because the specialist's office was located in a Catholic hospital. He immediately told me that a lot of good Catholics get abortions but my mind was made up. No abortion.

Spiritual Crisis Time

It was a very difficult time. I didn't tell any family members (until after he was born) of what was going on because I didn't want to spoil their enjoyment of me being pregnant with the first grandchild. Besides that, what would it change? I didn't tell anyone at work either, mainly because I wasn't really very "extra close" to anyone there. My husband was not as distraught as I was but then he wasn't the mother. He wasn't the one carrying this "problem" around in his belly, feeling him kick and making me nauseous a lot of mornings. I missed a lot of work due to the morning sickness but it was extra hard to go in because I felt I had to always go in and act like everything was o.k. I didn't want pity.

During all this time, I did a LOT of praying. More than I'd ever done before. I started praying when I first found out that there was a problem but as time went on, my praying became longer every day and more desperate. In the midst of my praying, I quickly realized that although I believed in God and the Bible, when it came down to getting help from above, I really wasn't so sure of how to pray or who to pray to. Because I'd seen that program on the "700 Club" about healings being for today, I prayed with that belief but I really didn't know if I should pray to God, to Jesus or to Mary. Before I'd become pregnant, I'd gotten involved with the London Right To Life group. In fact, I was supposed to be taking over as the "acting President". As a result, I met a number of Catholics who believed in praying to Mary and the saints. So, I prayed to God, Mary and Jesus together. I figured someone must be listening. Some of my initial prayers went something like this: "I don't know who to pray to. So would whoever's up there please help me? Who's up there? Is there anybody up there who will help me? Who do I pray to? God? Mary? Jesus? I'm not sure of how I should pray. Someone, please help me. Please heal my baby. The doctors can't do anything to fix my baby."

Unknown to me, I'd started using a Biblical principle that Jesus had taught about praying. It was the principle of "Pray and never give up" and that "He who sows in tears will reap with tears of joy". God is moved by our tears and by our perseverance in prayer. I didn't know this. All I knew was that there was absolutely no one else who could help and because I'd seen the "700 Club" program earlier, I knew it was possible for me, too. I was just a desperate woman praying honestly. I did not just pray a few times and then give up. I was desperate for help. I prayed and prayed and prayed, with a lot of crying mixed up in there. When you're desperate and there's no alternative, I think it's much easier to pray diligently.(God is a REWARDER of those who diligently seek Him). I also learned about praying to God, in Jesus' Name. I didn't know about the importance of this, either. Sometimes people wait until a catastrophe forces them into seeking for a solution. After you've exhausted "man's way", then if you have faith, you reach out and find God's way.

I really don't remember all of the kinds of things I prayed. I can assume that I must have prayed at some point that God would send someone to me to pray for my baby because that's what happened.

Spring 1986:

I was scheduled to have an ultrasound at the 20th week. Just before that, we were having a Pro-Life meeting at our apartment to discuss preparations for the next upcoming walk. At that meeting, I announced to the rest of the people what we were going through and told them that I wanted to be one of the key speakers. I told them I wanted people to know that we weren't just "pie in the sky-out of touch people " but that I could tell them I was going through the very thing that the other side said was one of the big reasons why abortion should be allowed. The people seemed a bit shaken by my news. Then I was asked by a visitor to our group if they could pray for me. Someone had invited a Pentecostal preacher and his wife to this particular meeting. I said "Sure", thinking it certainly wouldn't hurt.

The preacher's wife laid her hands on my stomach and they began to pray. I don't remember what they prayed. I just remember feeling a warmth going over my stomach that was different than from the weight of her hands. I actually became a little angry with myself. I remember thinking that this was a "mind over matter" thing, that I was being weak and that bothered me. I remember thinking "You just want it to happen". So, even though I was praying and calling out, I didn't have a lot of faith. The preacher and his wife were nice but I think that our music collection upset them when they saw it (Who Killed Bambi? Pentangle, etc.).Later they advised me to change churches.

So, I went for my first ultrasound to determine what was going on. Shortly after, I had the report given to me by the specialist. He told me that he had some very good news-that the ultrasound had shown that my baby had a brain and that he was not hydrocephalic. He told me that the ultrasound could not pick up on small spinal lesions at this point so that that was probably what we were facing. He said we would have another ultrasound later on in my pregnancy. He also told me that I should probably have a Caesarean operation to minimize the damage that might be done with a normal delivery. I was somewhat relieved but not a lot.

Part of this was because every time I saw my family doctor, he would always say something like "You've made it to the___th week. If you make it to the ___th week, we just might be able to save the baby's life". He told me I'd have to go to a different hospital in the city than where I wanted to give birth because it had special facilities for children who were in serious trouble. I came to not like going to see him. I always left depressed and would cry after leaving his office. It's just that I so desperately wanted to enjoy being pregnant. I wanted to live in a state of denial. I wanted to pretend that it was a normal pregnancy. Even though I loved the "challenged" children and adults that I worked with, I guess I really wanted to have a "normal" baby. What I did not want was to have other people feeling sorry for me. I enjoyed going to the specialist, however, because we didn't really discuss too much. He was a very busy man.

The rest of my pregnancy went on "normally". I gave my speech at the London pro-Life walk and had many very nice people come up and say that they would be praying for me. I went on the walk, which had a large turnout, although the media reported it as being a small turnout. I attended the pre-natal classes to prepare for the birth but I'd determined that when it was time to give birth, I was going to go to the hospital where the specialist was and have him do the delivery rather than go to the other hospital where my family doctor wanted me to go. Part of that reason was that the specialist did not make me feel upset and part was that the other hospital was also the hospital that carried out the abortions and I did not want to support them financially in any way.

September 1986:

So, Labour Day came and went but soon after I started to have contractions on the Monday evening. We timed them but they were erratic and would stop and start. This went on until by Thursday they were coming regularly so we checked into the Catholic hospital. They checked me but I was not dilating. They put me on a monitor to time the contractions and determine the strength of them. They also got me to walk around to try to start the dilating. This went on through the afternoon and into the evening. At this time they told me that no one has these kind of contractions and doesn't have a baby that night. They said that since I'd been without food for two days (just popsicles, jello and candies) that they would do a Caesarean if I didn't start dilating soon. I'd forgotten all about that I'd been advised to have a Caesarean to minimize any damage.

I was also told that the specialist who I wanted to deliver my baby was not going to be back from a conference until the following Monday morning. I was very disappointed with that and also that I hadn't dilated yet, so we checked myself out of the hospital. I was advised not to and was told that I'd just be back later in the night. I thought that maybe I could last until the specialist returned. I stayed at home, in labour but resting as much as possible, until finally on Sunday evening when I could not talk at all during my contractions or walk a step during one, I gave in and checked back into the hospital. At that point, it was found that I was dilated at 6 cm. My file did not contain the private information about my "special" condition, so we had to inform the staff about what was going on. They hooked me and my baby (after they broke my waters) up to some machines and gave me a spinal epidural as I was not allowed to move and the pain was excrutiating. I felt no more pain or contractions with the epidural. I was checked regularly through the night and was told at 6 a.m. that it was finally time to deliver him.

It was shift change time and someone else was also giving birth so the doctor who delivered my baby had no time to read my chart.(I missed my specialist doctor by just 2 hours). After my son was born, I asked the delivering doctor how bad the lesions were. He looked at me in surprise and asked, "What lesions?" So I told him that I'd under the care of Dr._____ at this hospital and was supposed to have a baby with spina bifida. I was quickly taken to a recovery room, where I shook for a long time even with an extra blanket. Later I was taken to my room where I slept until around 1 p.m. when they brought me my beautiful baby for the first time.

I found out that they had contacted my family doctor who was upset that I had not phoned him. He could not believe that my baby was o.k. He came over right away and they ran some tests on my baby, who by the way was 9 lbs.4 oz. at birth. I was told they did some kind of brain scan which came back normal. I was also told that his apgar score at birth was 9/10 and the second apgar score was 10/10. He was fine but my doctor came back later and said that he thought he had a Cretan's cry and that he wanted him tested for that, too. That, too, was fine.

After The Birth

In spite of all that, though, I personally was not sure that he was o.k. until he started walking. I had many times when I thought that there was something "hidden". He had a large head and I was told that he would probably grow up to be about 6'4'' based on all his birth measurements. Because his head was large at the beginning, it took him a little longer to be able to lift it by himself and since I knew very little about babies, I worried over every little thing. When he started to walk, he dispelled any concerns I had about his mobility, quickly becoming a runner and climber. He could also say "baby" and "Mom" when he was 9 months old (as witnessed by the same family doctor when I returned to London to do another speech at the following year's pro-life walk).

We moved from London just after he was born so we could be closer to our families. When we went back to London for the next year's Pro-Life walk, I told them about my miracle. As a result, my husband and I were both interviewed and on the T.V. news. Our pictures were in the newspaper and our story caused a bit of a stir for a little while as they debated this issue. This whole event introduced me as well to a very different understanding of the gospel than I'd been taught before. It was just the beginning of a number of other healings and miraculous events that we've experienced over the last 22 years but that would take some time to write about. I found out that indeed healings and miracles are to be for today.

My son is now 22 and is attending college, after having taken some time off to work.Yes, he is tall (6'5&1/2"). My husband and I are still endeavoring to teach him and his sisters about God and the Bible, as we learn.




May the Lord bless you and may you also find the truth that Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. The gifts of healing, miracles, speaking in tongues, interpreting tongues are still for today, just as salvation is still for today. People still need healings and miracles today.God still cares about His people. Many people today need to see or experience a miracle or God's Presence in order to truly believe, just as they did in the Bible.Truly God has raised Jesus from the dead. He is not dead. He is alive! He is still Lord and Christ!






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