God Bless This Little Child
Author unknown

God bless the little child behind the plastic wall ...
For all he knows is the ringing of the bells
and the blurred images around him.
He has been taken from my womb without warning
and I long to hold him in my arms.
Lord, I ask in your name that my child be healed.
I am willing to accept your decision no matter what it will be.
I am willing to take on the responsibilities for caring for this child.
I am willing to give this child love and understanding no matter the cost.
Please Lord help me to accept reality and what
has happened without explanation or warning.
Help me face the fact that this is not my fault and
that I was given a special task to complete here on Earth.
God give my child the strength to make it through another second,
minute, hour and day as each moment is a blessing and a triumph from heaven.
God, may you give the strength and compassion to the
caregivers and nurses that take care of my child.
May you keep my child protected and free from all injury and pain.
Please take away the guilt and burden from my heart dear Lord.
It is heavy and I feel it is all my fault.

Take it away dear Lord.

Sweet Jesus allow me the strength and understanding I need
to communicate with the Doctors and Nurses.
As you see dear Lord, I am at your mercy for the life of my child.
Please leave him here on Earth and know that I will provide
all the love and understanding that this child needs.
I accept the challenge and will be your humble servant dear Lord.


The Smell of Rain
Author unknown

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. Still groggy from surgery, her husband David held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news. The afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24 weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency cesarean to deliver the couple's new daughter, Danae Lu Blessing. At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound and nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature.

Still, the doctors soft words dropped like bombs. "I don't think she's going to make it," he said, as kindly as he could. "There's only a 10 percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one."

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Danae would likely face if she survived. She would never walk. She would never talk. She would probably be blind. She would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation. And on and on.

"No...No!" was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5 year old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away.

Through the dark hours of morning as Danae held onto life by the thinnest thread, Diana slipped in and out of drugged sleep, growing more and more determined that their tiny daughter would live and live to be a healthy, happy young girl. But David, fully awake and listening to the additional dire details of their daughter's chances of ever leaving the hospital alive, much less healthy, knew he must confront his wife with the inevitable.

David walked in and said "we need to talk about making funeral arrangements" Diana remembers. "I felt so bad for him because he was doing every thing, trying to include me in what was going on, but I just wouldn't listen. I couldn't listen. I said "No that is not going to happen, no way! I don't care what the doctors say. Danae is not going to die. One day she will be just fine, and she will be coming home with us!"

As if willed to live by Diana's determination, Danae clung to life hour after hour, with the help of every medical machine and marvel her miniature body could endure. But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Danae's underdeveloped nervous system was essentially "raw", the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort - so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Danae struggled alone beneath the ultra-violet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl.

There was never a moment when Danae suddenly grew stronger. But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there. At last, when Danae turned two months old, her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later - though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero - Danae went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

Today, seven years later, Danae is a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She shows no signs, whatsoever, of any mental or physical impairments. Simply, she is everything a little girl can be and more - but that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Danae was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing. As always, Danae was chattering non-stop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent. Hugging her arms across her chest, Danae asked, "Do you smell that"?

Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, "yes, it smells like rain."

Danae closed her eyes and again asked, "Do you smell that"?

Once again her mother replied, "Yes, I think we're about to get wet. It smells like rain."

Still caught in the moment, Danae shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced, "No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest."

Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Danae then happily hopped down to play with the other children before the rains came. Her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along. During those long days and nights of her first two months her life when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Danae on His chest - and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

The Special Mother
-Adapted from
Erma Bombeck
Motherhood The Second Oldest Profession

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit. This year thousands of mothers will give birth to a premature baby. Did you ever wonder how mothers of preemies are chosen?

Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting His instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger.

“Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron saint, Matthew. “Forest, Majorie, daughter. Patron saint, Ceceila. “Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron saint... give her Gerard. He’s used to profanity.

Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles, “Give her a premature baby.” The angel is curious. “Why this one, God? She’s so happy.”

“Exactly, “ smiles God. “Could I give a premature baby a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel.”

“But does she have patience?” asks the angel. “I don’t want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she’ll handle it.

“I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence that are so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I’m going to give her has his own world. She has to make it live in her world and that’s not going to be easy.”

“But, Lord, I don’t think she even believes in you.” God smiles, “No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness.”

The angel gasps, “Selfishness? Is that a virtue?” God nods. “If she can’t separate herself from the child occasionally, she’ll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child who comes in a less than perfect way. She doesn’t realize it yet, but she is to be envied.

“She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says ‘Mommy’ for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. When she describes a tree or a sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations.

“I will permit her to see clearly the things I see - ignorance, cruelty, prejudice - and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.”

“And what about her patron saint?” asks the angel, the pen poised in mid-air.

God smiles. “A mirror will suffice.”

Preemie Purple Heart
by Renea Erickson

One day a child was born, too early, too small, but loved as much as any child could be. As the parents of this child entered this journey, they found themselves feeling alone. They had the joys of being new parents but the fear of losing their child, the thrill of giving birth, the grief of a lost dream. This was supposed to be a joyous time, not a time filled with grief, anger and pain. Little did these parents know they were not alone.

The Preemie Purple Heart is an outward sign of unity among a special group of people. A group that knows no country, language, economic, ethnic or religious bounds. A group with one common goal: hope for the future of premature children. This group includes not only parents but grandparents, aunts, uncles, nurses, doctors, clergy and former preemies. This group shares a bond beyond words, a bond only the heart knows.

The Preemie Purple Heart is born of an idea borrowed from the US army, a medal given for being wounded in battle. What bigger battle is there than the battle for life and the wounds of premature birth live on with the infant and family forever, fading with time. The color was once reserved for royalty, making it special and it is gender neutral. The heart is not a solid color and the stripes in each heart are a little different, just as every child and every journey is a little different, but the basic design is the same, just like the basic experience is the same. The heart is made of glass, it is strong but not so strong it could withstand a crushing blow. The premature child is strong but not invincible. It is a heart because the heart is our center, its every beat renews life and hope, it symbolizes love. At the bottom of the Preemie Purple Heart is a teardrop, it is symbolic of the tears shed during the journey of a premature family, good and bad, joy and sorrow.

The Heart can be with you when you feel alone, remind you there are hundreds of others who keep you in their hearts, remind you there are others who need to be in your heart. It can give you a chance to share your story, when someone asks about the heart you wear you can tell them about the heart that beats inside you.

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