Often young people go through periods of being indecisive about life in general. They go through the process of trying to find themselves and the direction they should take in life. At 21 years old, I was no different. Then on May 3, 2007, I gave birth to my first child. I had found my reason to live. God had shown me there was a greater purpose, beyond myself, to be on this great earth. I made one last push; he made his first cries of life, and the doctor cut what had bonded us together for seven months. And then the euphoria I felt came to an abrupt stop. Before I could look into my sons eyes, nurses snatched him away and began their process to try and keep him alive. He was ten weeks early and maybe too young to live. He would need medicine and machines to stay alive.
So many thoughts raced through my mind. I was so scared for him. I apologized to God that night for all the sins I had ever committed. I made a promise to never sin again, just please keep my baby here. Hours later they escorted me to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit to see him. Walking toward his bed I immediately busted into tears. He was inside an incubator, surrounded by machines with tubes inserted in his nose and mouth and an UV light above him to keep his small body warm. I thought, he’s just a baby. He shouldn’t have to go through this – no one should. He should be in the comfort of our home and in the security of my arms. My grandmother reassured me that God has a plan for me and he wouldn’t put me in any situation he didn’t think I could handle. I looked at my newborn son and prayed that the plan she spoke of would be merciful. The first time I was allowed to hold my son was six hours after he had came into this world. Four pounds and 18 inches of fragile life rested in my hands. It was then that I understood the feeling of unconditional love. It was real and alive in my heart unlike the other times I had used the word love so loosely.
A month later he was released from intensive care and I whole heartedly thanked God for his mercy. My son is now two years old and free of any prematurity defects. You would never know that he was a preemie. In fact, he often gets mistaken for a child twice his age. They say children are like little angels filled with blessings. I agree because in a way he saved my life. I cherish his caramel colored skin, wild curly hair and big bright eyes. He is a piece of me, molded from my image and sculpted in my body. Conceived out of love and born into it. He was the piece that my life’s puzzle had been missing. Now with a child of my own I looked forward to a future with more happiness and more enthusiasm than ever before. I am nowhere near where I want to be in life but yet so far from where I was. This is mostly attributed to my son. His warm smiles, bubbly demeanor and unrelenting energy encourages me to be a better person every day. When he has his first date or when he goes off to college, I will remember his humble beginnings and thank God for how far he has come. This I believe: That miracles do happen and God is real.