november 1994- september 1995

Inside of my mother's womb, I was a small bean-shaped creature. Alien. Barely a speck of a human. Yet I was there.

It had been made apparent—to my parents—that I was female.

For four years, they had waited for this moment; they had awaited the discovery of me. And now, not only had I been discovered, my gender had as well.

They were excited and quite emotional. This was life-changing to them. They were to have a little girl! Oh, the joys little girls bring!

Six months later, a five pound, twelve ounce baby was born. That was me.

I was quite small; my mother had been told I would be around eight pounds. Little did they know, my small size meant more than they thought.

I would turn blue when crying. Literally. Blue.

Although I was an overall happy baby, giving no problems, I turned blue when I cried. Because this was quite unusual and scary, I was taken to the doctors.

Many said I was fine, that there was need to worry.

Finally, one doctor looked closer. She was thorough in her investigation.

A hole. That was the cause of it all.

A hole in my heart.

Sometimes, as a baby develops, the holes close up and everything goes back to normal. They assumed this much but kept a close eye on me.

The hole remained.

And so, in September of 1995, I was rushed into a surgery that would either save me, or it would kill me.

My father knew of a man whose daughter had died during the same procedure.

Family and friends were crying, clinging to each other, and praying that God would see me through it all.

Of course, God came through. And so did I.

Joy could not describe the emotions running through the crowd. Family and friends, church members, and hospital staff were jubilant, gleeful, euphoric even, that I had managed to pull through.

And while the holes were now gone forever, the memories and the emotions never left.

I was a miracle. They all believed that. They still believe that.Even Nan, who dubbed me her "Angel baby."

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