"I Shouted to the Doctors: 'I Can't Feel My Body, It's Paralyzed!'"

"It was a huge miracle, an enormous miracle of divine providence," Edna Hajaj-Leibovitz exclaims when recalling the challenging experience she went through exactly a year ago. An experience that still leaves its mark to this day.

For a moment, she pauses our conversation, as her baby boy whines in his bed, seeking another moment with his mother before going to sleep. After giving him attention and placing the pacifier in his sweet mouth, she resumes our conversation. "One of the great things I gained from my journey is the lesson of simply being grateful for every moment I have with my children," she reveals, "I thank Hashem time and again for every caress I can give them and for every moment spent with them. I know these things are not to be taken for granted."

"I Felt My Body Paralysis"

Edna's story, as mentioned, begins about a year ago when she was at the end of her pregnancy with her second child. "I got sick with a virus, which turned out to be CMV. The virus itself isn't dangerous and wasn't supposed to affect the baby, as the risk is only at the beginning of the pregnancy, not the end. After a few days of coughing and cold, the symptoms of the virus subsided, and for me, everything returned to normal, but then, about a week later, I suddenly began to experience symptoms I had never felt before in my life," she describes.

According to her, it was on Shabbat, and she lay on the couch, writhing in pain. "I thought these were labor contractions, as I was approaching childbirth, but there was something strange about this pain. This wasn't my first birth; I have an older daughter, and I knew labor pains felt different."

In the meantime, she says something amazing happened. "My sister lives an hour walk away from me, and that night she dreamt of our grandfather of blessed memory who said to her, 'How much I love Edna, and love you all,' as if trying to hint that she should watch over me. When she woke in the morning, she was very alarmed, and something in her heart told her I needed her. She dropped everything and walked to my house. I cannot express the magnitude of joy I felt when I saw her. My sister helped me with relaxation exercises, and together we realized these were not labor contractions, but another kind of pain. Eventually, I managed to fall asleep and released her to her home."

The pain subsided, but the next morning Edna woke up with a tingling sensation in her hands and feet, and then felt how her body was gradually beginning to paralyze. "It was terrifying; it was clear it was something serious," she says, "Of course I went to the emergency room that day, but all the tests they did were normal. The doctors' only explanation was that I might have entered a state of anxiety about the birth. I finally returned home without any clear diagnosis or treatment that could help me."

From that moment the situation worsened. "The next day, I felt a burning sensation in my hands and feet, and the following day I could barely stand. I just didn't feel my legs. I called Magen David Adom; they took me to the hospital, but they did tests and couldn't find anything wrong. Five neurologists saw me, but all kept saying: 'You are experiencing anxiety and may have locked your body from within.' I remember sobbing and telling them: 'Maybe I'm anxious but tell me what I can do to free myself.'"

Still, Edna notes that at those moments a great fear overwhelmed her. "I knew I was facing childbirth, and I didn't understand how I could give birth in such a state. Not long before, I had prepared a video for myself titled 'Give Birth with Faith,' which included empowering sentences that would enable me to have a natural birth, as I aspired to. In hindsight, those words took on a completely different meaning – because truly, at that time, I needed faith to give birth. During those days, when I prayed about the birth, I asked Hashem for an easy birth and full hands, adding the request that the baby would have full hands, meaning he would have a mother to raise him. I was afraid I would die and leave the children alone; I felt I was on the brink of death."

100% with Hashem

The only one who finally recognized Edna's severe condition was a private gynecologist her sister brought to the house. He initially tried to treat her with subcutaneous injections but quickly noticed that her body was completely paralyzed. He stopped everything and informed Edna that she was being taken to Assuta Ashdod hospital immediately.

When Edna arrived at Assuta, she was already paralyzed throughout her body; even her vocal cords barely functioned, and she could hardly speak. "The doctors who received me were very alarmed and immediately called the chief neurologist to diagnose me. Meanwhile, my family contacted a great rabbi who instructed them to change my name to Edna. Until then, I was called 'Eden,' and the rabbi recommended adding the letter He."

The next day, the diagnosis finally came, and the doctors explained to Edna that they suspected Guillain-Barre Syndrome – an autoimmune disease affecting the nerve sheath, typically occurring after a bacterial or viral fever illness. The disease is characterized by body paralysis, with about 5% of patients dying from it once the paralysis reaches the respiratory system. "The doctors were clear that I needed to be rushed to a cesarean section to deliver the baby and then quickly treat me."

The surgery was an emergency operation, and just before the doors closed, the neurologist turned to Edna and said: "I am not a religious person, but you are a believing woman, and I assure you that with your faith, you will stand on your feet again. A challenging time awaits you, but you will return to yourself."

A few minutes later, the surgery began, and the healthy baby boy was born, without Edna seeing or feeling him. From there, she was transferred to the recovery room, where she began to feel difficulty breathing. "I couldn’t breathe or speak..." she describes, and it is evident that the memories are painful for her. "The only thing that stood in front of my eyes during those difficult moments was the need to stay alive; after all, I have a baby and a daughter at home."

Edna vaguely recalls the doctors transferring her to intensive care, and from then on, she remembers nothing. "My family members later told me that just minutes after they took me to the intensive care unit, my respiratory system collapsed all at once," she describes, "I lay in intensive care for ten days, sedated and ventilated. Only later did I realize that one of the things that led to my severe condition was the late diagnosis, which caused the paralysis to spread to all parts of my body. I was in critical condition." 

What Edna does remember from her time in intensive care is that occasionally, they tried to wake her to check her responses. "My family told me later that they woke me about once an hour, yet to my understanding, it was a new day each time, so each time I opened my eyes, I would silently mumble 'Modeh Ani'..."

Overall, Edna says, during that time, she felt an inseparable bond with the Creator. "I don't wish anyone to experience what I went through, but if one desires to be alone with Hashem 100%, this is the way. Because of the ventilator, I couldn't talk, and the conversations with Hashem were mostly from the heart. I remember crying internally and asking the Master of the Universe to keep me alive for my children. The only Psalms chapters I could remember were 'Shir LaMa'alot Esa Einai' and 'Shir HaMa'alot MiMa'amakim,' and I would keep praying them repeatedly."

Learning Everything from Scratch

Ten days after her hospitalization, a speech therapist came to Edna with a communication board, and Edna, who could barely move her little finger, used it to spell out the sentence, 'My name is Edna.' "I couldn't bear being called 'Eden' all the time in the department, since I had changed my name," she explains. One of the rabbis, whom Edna feels deeply connected to, also visited her during that time. "When I noticed the rabbi, I burst into tears. He performed a ceremony for the purging of the soul and read two chapters of Psalms. These were precisely the chapters I remembered by heart... Later he told me he delivers Torah lessons and constantly prays for my recovery. It greatly strengthened me."

Then came the stage when the ventilator was removed, but the voice still hadn't returned, so Edna communicated primarily through mouth movements. Gradually, other abilities began to return, but everything happened slowly and incrementally. "I had to learn to do everything like a small child," she explains, "and it's essential to remember that my paralysis wasn't only external but internal as well – the stomach, intestines, vocal cords – everything was paralyzed."

To restore Edna's lost skills, a long rehabilitation process was necessary. "Initially, I underwent rehabilitation in 'Aleh Negev' in Ofakim, and subsequently, they transferred me for three months of rehabilitation at Beit Loewenstein," she recounts.

During those days, Edna experienced excruciating pain, at an intensity she had never known. "They explained to me that when muscles start to recover, the body regrows, hence the pain is so severe. I felt that I couldn't bear it anymore – being far from family, enduring pain, and feeling that my body was betraying me.

"I would call the rabbi and cry to him on the phone: 'Please decree that the severe pains will pass. After all, a righteous person decrees and Hashem fulfills,' and the rabbi cried with me and said: 'You've been given life as a gift, the pain will pass, and you'll see that you'll be a medical miracle. Hold tight, we are praying for you nonstop.'"

One of the hardest things for her during that period was being far from her little baby. "The first time I saw him was when he was a month and a half old," she recalls, "I wasn't even at his Brit. Fortunately, I had previously shared with my family that I wanted to name him 'Shiloh Yehudah,' and so they gave him the name I wanted, even without my knowing."

During her hospitalization at Beit Loewenstein, Edna would come home for Shabbat, only to discover that her firstborn daughter, who was barely two at that time, hardly remembered her. "Until everything happened, we had a very special bond; we were together almost all day," Edna explains, "And when I suddenly disappeared from her life, she felt abandoned. I had to work hard to regain her trust, and the hardest part was on Saturday nights when I had to return to the hospital, and she would cling to me, pleading: 'Mommy, don’t go...'"

What gave you strength during this period?

"Only faith," Edna says confidently, "I saw throughout the journey the miracles Hashem performed for me, and it was clear to me that I had to progress for the miracle to be complete. There were also good emissaries who constantly helped me – from the amazing and professional doctors at Assuta to the rehabilitation team. I am forever grateful to them all."

Just Be Grateful

Edna emphasizes that ultimately there was great divine assistance, as although the doctors initially predicted the rehabilitation would last about a year, three months later she was released from Beit Loewenstein on her feet. "Even though I still don't feel the soles of my feet—they're still paralyzed—I managed to learn to walk on them. Also, my body is weak, apparently still under trauma, but it doesn't prevent me from doing everything at home, being there for my family and my children," she explains.

And Edna's greatest happiness, according to her, is being able to raise her children and be with her family. "When I was finally discharged, Shiloh-Yehudah was five months old, and only then could I truly care for him," she says, "Until that day, he was primarily taken care of by my amazing sister, who has eight children of her own, one of whom is almost the same age. By the way, she also nursed my baby because she knew it was important to me. I have no words to thank my sister; she was with me all the time and did more than I could have asked for."

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These days of the month of Kislev mark exactly a year since the event she experienced. "Kislev is a month of miracles, and only I know how many miracles I have seen throughout the period I went through. These are miracles that one cannot stop thanking for, and every morning when I wake up, I hug my little baby and simply thank Hashem – thank Him for every action I can perform, for every movement, and for every breath. I ask Him to ensure our happiness always and help us see the light even in the hard times of life."