Sunday, June 20, 2010

Twelve Years with my Miracle Child

My youngest baby girl was born on this day twelve years ago. She’s my miracle, wanting to come at 26 weeks, allowing me to laze around on bedrest while my mom, sister and husband did all my work, and then deciding not to come at full-term unless the doctor induced. She’s not stubborn, just relaxed. She comes when she’s ready to come, maybe a little early, maybe a little late.

So my first fearful moments with this precious child were filled with the thought that she may be born too early to live. What a frightening notion…until unexplainable peace that only God can give enveloped me. I knew, in that colorless hospital room, that all would be well. She would live or she would go straight to a loving, Heavenly Father never having to experience the pain this world can give. I can’t tell you how comforting that was to me. While I might not have received the joy of seeing her grow, I would have the joy of knowing she never experienced any of the pain the living see. That was a gift from God. But she did survive to give us another scare.

I knew something was wrong when the doctor’s face blanched as he delivered her. The nurses quickly whisked her away. “Did you see that?" Doc asked my husband. But God gave me another miracle. When the nurses brought her back she was perfectly healthy despite having what the doctor described as a “true knot” in her umbilical cord. The fear was that if the knot was too tight she would have been deprived of food and oxygen in the womb. We were told that’s why many women miscarriage early in their pregnancy. You see, when a baby is very tiny, it can move around too much, knotting itself up. As it grows and moves more, it pulls that knot tight and soon dies. So…how did my little gymnast do somersaults in my uterus for nine months without tightening that knot? I know. God.

And throughout the years God has always been watching over her, protecting, guiding, loving her, and keeping me from having heart attacks. We called her “Dennis the Menace” so many times because she would get herself in the worst predicaments without trying to be bad. Before she could walk, she could climb up the dining room chairs, onto the tabletop and stand up. I began storing the chairs on top of the table to protect her from herself. If a life guard blew a whistle, I asked, "where's she at?" I had to keep such a tight grip on her wrist in public that I'm surprised she didn't have bruises. Picture a dog straining on it's leash. That was what it was like holding onto her. Her life was full of excitement and exploration with no thought of danger at all.

But today she is my caring, compassionate, serving child. Regularly she volunteers to be her older sisters’ “servant,” making them meals, bringing them drinks, running their errands. At the end of the school year, she was honored with the highest award her elementary school gives, an award based on character. And when asked what she wants to be when she grows up, she says, "a mom." She’ll make a wonderful one too, full of love for every miracle child the Lord brings her.

I love you, baby girl.


  1. What a great post and tribute to your miracle baby. Thanks for sharing and bringing happy tears to my eyes.

  2. Gave me chills. What a way to celebrate father's day!

  3. What a beautiful post! Thanks for sharing.

  4. Wow! LOVED meeting your miracle! What a story, right here, waiting to be captured on paper in some form!!!

    Loved meeting you, too!

    Keep on writing for that Audience of One.

  5. What a moving tribute from a mother to her daughter!