Though the earth give way and the mountains fall...

One year ago today, I was going about my business as a 36-week-pregnant wife and mother. I was in full nesting mode and was spending the morning stocking my freezer with food from Sam's and Wal-Mart. Since Isabella was born early, I had a feeling Sophia might arrive early, too, and I was determined to be prepared. Toting 18-month-old Isabella with me, I made my way through the stores, walking from one end to the other, not realizing I was in labor.

I drove home, put Isabella down for her nap and brought several loads of groceries up the stairs. I had been having odd twinges all day, but having chalked them up to Braxton-Hicks contractions, I mostly ignored them. The twinges became more regular as the day wore on, so Phillip and I decided I should get checked. I was dilated 4 centimeters and almost completely effaced. When the time came, I pushed two times and Sophia literally popped into the world at 3:01 a.m.

I had no reason to think that anything might be wrong. I had carried her a full week longer than Isabella, my pregnancy had been completely uneventful, and every checkup had been perfect. Even so, I was only allowed to hold her for about 15 seconds before she began turning blue. They took her away and told me they would bring her back as soon as they examined her. Everyone left to see the baby, but since my epidural had not yet worn off, I was left by myself in the bed. Finally, Phillip came back, but was minus a baby. He said she was having problems breathing and was being transported to the NICU. All I remember was a flood of emotion coming all at once; one nurse later told me that she heard me crying all the way down the hall. Everyone tried to make me feel better by telling me she wasn't doing so terribly, that a nasal cannula was probably all it would take to help her breathe, and that the worst-case scenario would be a ventilator. Before I knew it, however, she was on a ventilator and the worst-case scenario had become a reality.

Since I still couldn't walk, they put me in a wheel chair and took me to see her before she was transported. She wasn't out in the main viewing nursery; no, my baby was in the private, high-risk room they had told us about during our parenting classes, along with the added reassurance, "We're sure none of your children will have to be in here, don't worry about." But, there was my baby laying on a table with 7 or 8 people rushing around trying to help her breathe. She wasn't moving, she was blue and she had more wires than I could count running in and out of her 7-pound body. Did I mention she was born on Good Friday?

Sophia was transported to the NICU and I was transported two hours later. When I got there, I couldn't believe that the baby I was directed to was even mine. Not once during my entire pregnancy did I ever fathom seeing my child looking so anguished when she was supposed to look rosy, pink and new.

I spent the day running between the NICU and my hospital room, never mind that I had just pushed a human being out of my body a mere 4 hours previous. Each time I entered the NICU, I was greeted with worse news. For example, they could only find two renal vessels; there were supposed to be three. Therefore, she could have potential life-long kidney problems. Additionally, one of her intestines was protruding through her skin, due to an excess of air on her stomach that could also potentially cause long-term problems. Oh, and she still couldn't breathe on her own. I couldn't hold her, I couldn't try to feed her, and instead of snuggling in my comfortable birthing suite with my new baby, I could only lightly brush her skin because we were told how much pain she would experience at anything more. While we were told that she would probably live, she would likely have some life-long issues to deal with and she would probably be in the NICU at least 3 weeks. I cried and worried and prayed all day long.

The next morning, our NICU nurse called. She said to come upstairs as soon as we could; Sophia was miraculously off the ventilator and was, for the time being, holding her own. None of the doctors or nurses ever expected such an immediate turnaround.

Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help and he will say: Here am I. ~Isaiah 58:9

The renal ultrasound had shown that she did indeed have a third renal vessel; it was just very well hidden and was very tiny. So, no kidney problems to worry about, her lungs were finally functioning, and they had managed to suction the air off her stomach before permanent damage was done.

(A very worried daddy)

When we made it upstairs, she was finally beginning to look pink and new. We spent the day with her in the NICU, but were told that she would most likely have to remain there for a week at least, because they had to be sure she could maintain her body weight, her body temperature and keep down a specified amount of food at each feeding. Thrilled though I was that my child was well and had come so far so fast, I dreaded going home and leaving her in the hospital for another week. That just wasn't how this was supposed to happen.

(Checking Sophia's temperature)

God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day. ~Psalm 46:5

Easter Sunday arrived and with it came our own personal miracle. While Phillip and I were in the NICU fawning over our new daughter, her doctor came by on rounds. He examined her, looked at her chart, studied her weight, temperature and feeding statistics. Completely unexpectedly, he told us she could go home the next day as long as there was no change in her progress.

(The first time I got to hold her since she was first born)

Anything else I could say at this point would be anti-climactic. Suffice it to say, our child who came into this world on Good Friday, anguishing, blue, and unable to breathe, had new life about her by the time Easter Sunday arrived; she was finally rosy, pink and healthy. Phillip and I, who could have lost so much just two days before, felt like we had been given a second chance, if you will, with the new life God had blessed us with. What a wonderful Easter.

But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the punishment of our peace was upon him; and with his wounds we are healed. ~Isaiah 53:5

For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace; the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. ~Isaiah 55:12

Sophia Caroline will be one-year-old tomorrow. She is beautiful and perfect. Thank you, God.