“I cannot believe how easy that was!” I thought to myself while giving birth to our fourth child. Compared to the other three deliveries it was actually a pleasant experience. For so long I had waited for and wanted this baby girl. As soon as they pulled her out all I could think of was holding her in my arms. I also remember thinking, “Why isn’t she crying. I want to hear her cry!” As I went to the recovery room the doctors and nurses could tell right away there was something wrong with our baby. They worked on her in another little room tirelessly and without success. She grew weaker by the hour. After recovering from the surgery I was wheeled into the room where one little baby lay with tubes and devices attached to her tiny body. It broke my heart to see her struggle for each breath, to see someone so small and helpless in so much pain. They kept her in a clear glass box in a room separate from mine. I didn’t understand what was wrong with her, or how long we would be separated. After a day of her declining health she was taken by ambulance to the N.I.C.U. in San Diego. Before they transported her the kind paramedic let me hold her for the first time. For a brief moment before she was put into a box with devices to keep her alive I held that tiny baby and I fell in love. As a nurse  wheeled me back into my room I looked over my shoulder to see Jeremy, a man I had never before seen cry, with tears streaming down his face as he watched the ambulance drive away with his daughter.         

 Jeremy went home to be with our other children and I was left alone with feelings of despair. “Had I done this to her?” I thought. “Was this my fault?” The darkness enveloped me that night and I fell into a deep depression. I was alone in that hospital separated from my baby for three excruciating days. I did not know if Kate would live or die before I got to hold her again. The thoughts of her suffering alone without the love and comfort only her mother could give her consumed me. I pleaded with God to help me and He did. I came to know for myself a faint glimpse of what our Savior suffered alone in Gethsemane when a loving Father in Heaven sent angels to strengthen Him.

The minute I was released from the hospital Jeremy and I eagerly drove to see Kate. The emotions are hard to describe as I entered the N.I.C.U and saw all those helpless suffering babies. There was a sober, yet reverent feeling in that place. The world renowned specialist who had been treating Kate showed us where she lay sleeping. “She was knocking on deaths door when we got her,” the doctor said sternly. “The only reason this girl is still here is because she is a fighter.” I bawled like a baby as I looked down on her and thanked Heavenly Father for allowing her to stay on the earth for me. Kate was being treated for lung disease and an infection that was in her lungs from the delivery. Leaving her there while we drove the long hour and a half home was one of the defining moments of my faith. I turned to Jeremy and told him how much I loved him. No matter what happened we could get through it together.

It was December just weeks before Christmas and I had 3 other small children at home who deserved the magic of the season in their childhood memories. I tried to be the best mother I could for them even though my heart ached for Kate. Each time I went to visit Kate I would hold her and sing to her. Our time together always passed too quickly.  I walked out the hospital doors and my body ached for that piece of my heart I had left behind. The days passed slowly not knowing when we would hear the longed for words, “She can come home now.” Because of priesthood blessings and prayer, what was thought to be at least two months turned into a few weeks, and just before Christmas day we got to bring home the best Christmas gift our family has received. We had Kate home for Christmas and every day since then it has felt like Christmas morning having her in my life. She is a miracle.