A story about faith, love and believing in miracles …

I post these words every year. I don't think I will ever be able to change them. To do so would be an injustice to her. To me. And to all our family and friends who stood by us then and who continue to share this life with us now. This story is about our beginning together. It is a story of faith and love … and believing in miracles.

We were told when I was about 11 weeks pregnant that she did not look quite so “typical” … I didn’t care. I loved our baby. And I prayed.

A few weeks later we were told that not only was our baby “not typical”, but that there was a chance I would be delivering her still born … I wanted our baby even more fiercely than I had before. And I prayed.

Several weeks later, we almost lost our baby … to which I screamed an adamant and angry “NO!” And I prayed.

A month later we were told that our baby had a “very large hole in her heart” … to which I said, “I don’t believe you.“ And I prayed.

Two months later we were told, “Your baby is small” … to which I laughed and said, “Of all the things that you have told us, this seems pretty manageable.” And I prayed.

Two weeks later, on what was supposed to be a brief doctor’s visit before we headed to our local water park, we were told that our baby was not growing, that she was too small and that she was not acting the way she should be. We were told that I would be given another amniocentesis to see if her lungs were developed. If they were, my doctor wanted to take her right away … I felt like my body was failing her. And I prayed.

My doctor gave me a drug to speed up our baby’s lung development. The results of the amniocentesis were not what we had hoped for. My doctor told us that our baby’s lungs were not developed, our baby could not breath on her own. Now we had a team of medical professionals. They hoped nothing would go wrong for the next 48 hours so that the steroid they had given me would have time to help our baby’s lungs grow … to which I said, “OK”. And I prayed.

Less than 24 hours later I had a hospital room full of people wearing blue who were running around and pumping my body full of fluids and drugs. We were told that we could no longer wait. We were told that our baby would not be breathing and that she would be very small and weak … to which I cried in her father’s arms and said, “I’m scared.” And I prayed.

Minutes later I was strapped to a table. I had refused anything that would alter my mental state. I wanted to be there for our baby. It took a long time to get her out. I was told that she was so small that she kept slipping through the doctor’s hands. I kept screaming, “Is she out?!?!” And I prayed.

Then, I heard a cry … to which I thought, “That is a loud cry for a baby who is supposed to be weak, small and not breathing.” And I prayed.

A few minutes later our baby was brought over to me, warmly swaddled, pink as could be, breathing on her own and with no hole in her heart. (Sure, she has some extra chromosomes, but who cares about that?) And when I saw her I thought, “You are my miracle and I love you.” And then, I praised God for our beautiful daughter.

Eight years ago today, through God’s amazing grace, Reese Lindsey Grace was born by emergency cesarean section. She was 6 weeks early. She weighed 2lbs 15oz and was 15 ½ inches long. My world has not been quite the same since … and I would have it no other way.

Well, I hope you all have a day where you celebrate a miracle … and always remember to pray!!!


One of my most favorite people in the world …

Today is my son George’s birthday. His birth feels like it was yesterday. I remember at the end of the day, when all of our visitors had left the hospital, and it was just he and I. I held him in my arms and looked at his darling little face. I said his name out loud. George Alexander Henry, III. It was a very big name for such a tiny baby. My eyes filled with tears as I was suddenly overwhelmed with the responsibility of raising my son to be the man I so desperately wanted him to become. Strong but not aggressive. Brilliant but not arrogant. Kind. Good. Compassionate. Selfless. A true GENTLE-man. Well, now we are HERE on his 18th Birthday. He made the journey from that hospital room to this day, easy. He has grown into a wonderful young man with every quality I had hoped for, and more. George’s loving nature, his loyalty and his humor are my favorite qualities that he possesses. I treasure our relationship and all our long talks. He makes the worries that I felt, all those years ago, seem foolish now. He is ready to take on the world and I simply can’t wait to watch him chase his dreams … but no matter how tall he grows, how old he becomes or where his successes take him, he will always be my precious baby boy.

Happy 18th Birthday George! You are a joy! I love you with all of my heart and I couldn’t be prouder of the man you are today!

Well, I hope you all have a day where you celebrate one of your most favorite people in the world!!!

Remembering …

This day, 7 years ago, was not an easy one. Reese would be born the next morning in what can best be described as a “terrifying circus”. I don’t think I’ve ever been more angry, frightened, relieved and elated all in such a short amount of time. So guess it makes sense that I can’t help but be flooded with emotions and memories today. Reese had quite a beginning, and every day since, she has continued to amaze me.

Well, I hope you all have a day where you remember!!!