My wife became pregnant while we were still in Gabon (Africa). A little while later we had travelled for about 10 days towards the eastern part of Africa, before going to the USA. In the late afternoon of August 25th, a few hours before taking the plane that was bringing us to our destination, my wife had an ultrasound scan at a hospital of Kigali, Rwanda. The doctor told us we would have a girl. He said that he wasn’t able to see the child’s sex, but that at this stage of the pregnancy, it would’ve been already visible if the baby was a boy. Seeing the child’s position, he concluded that it was a girl. Of course, it was a joy to me, because I had told my wife from the start that I wanted God to give me a girl. Right then, I thought to name her “Elizabeth.”
We arrived in the USA the following day, and a few days later, we went to the hospital and started the prenatal visits. We got to go to numerous appointments, and have multiple ultrasound scans. To us, it was a completely normal procedure. I remember that one brother and his wife had wanted to know the reason why we had so many ultrasound scans. We had replied that we were just doing what the doctors wanted us to do, until the fateful day of October 31st when we went to the hospital for our umpteenth appointment, and the nurse asked us this question, “Do you know why you are regularly asked to come for ultrasound scans?” I answered that I didn’t, and that I would like her to tell us why. She said this, “Your child has a genital malformation and because of this, the child is neither a boy nor a girl, but both.” My wife burst into tears while I was trying to understand.
They scheduled the next ultrasound scan for November 26th to see if there would be any change since we were getting close the delivery due date. I then asked the nurse to show us the latest videos from the last ultrasound scans. She called a doctor, and he came to show them to us. Seeing the sadness of my wife, I asked for another ultrasound scan to be done before the 26th, and preferably as soon as possible. They then gave us the date of November 6th. That day, with at least three doctors in the room, they showed us the anomaly on the screen.
They offered to put us in contact with associations that take care of this kind of children. They were comforting us, saying, “They are normal children that go to school like everyone else, they study well, and we would be well supported, that we were lucky to be in the USA in such a situation.” I clearly told them NO. I told them that I refused to meet these people they were talking about, because the child we were expecting was a girl despite what they were telling me.
When I came out of the doctor’s office that day, I called a brother to whom I said, I need to contact Brother Joseph Branham (to ask for prayer). The brother told me that I could call in Jeffersonville, and leave my request on a voicemail.
Life had become hard, we were praying every night, every morning, and we were listening to the prophet all the time. I was called at the hospital and there the doctors told me they wanted my wife to have some tests done. They had to perform a belly puncture to extract some of the amniotic liquid, in order to analyze it and see what caused this malformation. I asked them if this exam would solve the problem, they said it wouldn’t, they just wanted to know. I refused that this test be done on my wife.
A few days later, they called me to put me in contact with a pediatrician. They told me that he would be the one following my child after birth. My wife and I met him, and during our meeting, he told us he was also a surgeon, and that he was taking care of that kind of case, telling us that when the child would be born he could operate on the child, with our agreement.
If we wanted the child to be a girl, he would take out the masculine part and if we wanted the child to be a boy he would do it the other way. He also said that this anomaly was surely caused by a hormonal problem. He would take a blood sample from the child at birth to analyze it, and if a hormonal problem was confirmed, the child would have to take pills every day for the rest of its life in order to survive.
Feeling pressured by the doctors at each appointment, I replied to the surgeon, “Thank you doctor for all your propositions, but I want you to know that my child will not go through any operation. We are expecting a girl, and I named her Elizabeth. I am Christian and I believe on the Lord Jesus Christ. I believe with all my heart that He will solve my child’s problem.” We then went out of his office, planning to meet again on the delivery due date which was January 7th, 2015.