(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Reader discretion is advised 18+)
Miracles do happen. They occur everyday. My youngest daughter is a miracle for me. I forever hold this experience I am about to share with you, inside my soul, let alone my heart and mind.
Laura had a rough start. There were complications during her delivery into this world. She fought inside me for over four hours to breathe in, exhale out, and ingest blood. Laura was slowly drowning whilst inside me. I hold great respect for Laura knowing how incredibly strong, resilient, and tenacious she truly is, not to mention highly insightful and incredibly loving.
The medical staff whisked Laura away with a tube in between her rib cage, and an oxygen mask on her tiny little face. I was taken to the semi-private room to recover.
Whilst I was recovering, I was an emotional wreck. I was devastated by what had occurred. I kept praying over and over again “please don’t take my baby. Take me instead. My baby girl has much to do. Please take me instead. I can’t bear the pain of losing her. God please help her!”.
After a few hours of sleep, I got up and made my way to the neonatal intensive care unit within the labour and delivery ward. I had to see my baby. I wanted to feed her. I had no milk flow whatsoever. The stress was too great to produce her milk. Laura wasn’t about to eat anyway. She was hooked up to IVs and a breathing pump was encased around her head. The rest of Laura’s body was exposed to heat lamps. They were unable to place her inside an incubator because she was at extreme risk of leaving this world. The barrier of an incubator to get to her in an emergency was too high of a risk to take.
I remember entering the NICU. Laura was on the opposite side of the room, straight ahead of me. I could hear her fighting for breath from the doorway.
“Huhh…Hu….hhh”
Laura’s breathing was strained and intermittent. She sounded like she had smoked a hundred packs of cigarettes the moment she came out. Hearing her breathe like that instantly crushed me and also placed me in a loving state that simply has no comparison. I was fully and completely absorbing Laura’s energy, whilst equally giving her as much of mine as I could. The love I felt for her was, and still is, profound. Laura had to stay in this world in my mind. She deserved to live.
I hadn’t decided on Laura’s name when I first entered the NICU. I had two names bouncing back and forth in my mind. My baby girl was going to be named Rachel Laura, or, Laura Rachel. I decided that she would tell me her name. I knew that when I looked at her beautiful little face that I would know her name.
I wasn’t able to hold my baby. I was able to sit beside her and watch her lay there. I did my best to ignore the IV in her arm and the medical tape on her side where the tube was inserted into her. Laura also had a tube coming out of her mouth with bandage tape holding it in place. I still knew. I knew my baby’s name
“Hi Laura. My beautiful little girl. Yes, you are definitely Laura”.
“Mrs S, the doctor would like to come and speak with you. Would you prefer to go back to your room, or, would you prefer here?”, the NICU nurse asked.
“Here please. I don’t want to leave my baby.”
I was alone at the time. Albert had to go home to organize care for our eldest daughter Liv. Liv was only thirteen months old when Laura was born. Albert also had to rearrange is schedule at his work. It was also late or very early in the morning at the time. Honestly, many of the details are vivid whilst other details are a complete blur. My timing may be off. What happened is a lasting imprint though.
The doctor came in to explain what was happening with my daughter. It was extremely challenging to hear.
“Laura had inhaled blood into her lungs. Tests show that she has one lung full of fluid and the other lung is a little over half filled with fluid.
We were able to drain the blood from her abdomen. Unfortunately we cannot extract the fluid from her lungs. Your baby has to fight it. Time will tell. There is little more we can do with the exception of monitoring her and keep her comfortable.
This machine here helps Laura to breathe. The box provides oxygen. The bed she is laying on is exposed for quick access to her. These heat lamps help to keep her body temperature up as she is unable to sustain her own temperature at this time. Laura is also fighting jaundice therefore these lamps help her with this”.
The doctor’s words above are not verbatim. It’s my layman’s way to explain what was explained to me whilst I was an emotional, mental, and physiological mess. The gravity of the situation hit when the doctor asked me a question that I didn’t even consider.
“Do you have a particular religious denomination? We can have a priest come in the event they are required”.
“No. I have no particular religion”.
The rest of the night and the next day was basically a continuation of the day before until it got worse.
I don’t really remember how much medical attention I received. What I do remember is going to the ward desk to inquire as to when I would be released from the hospital and that I still hadn’t received the paperwork for Laura to obtain her birth certificate.
“You had a natural birth dear. You are discharged now. Natural births only require a twenty-four hour stay”, the nurse explained.
I pleaded with the nurse. “My baby, she is in the NICU. I can’t leave her. Can I stay?”
“No. You can certainly visit your baby during visiting hours and can consult your doctor for updates”.
With that, I went into the NICU and sat with my baby until eight pm that night. As visiting hours were coming to an end, the nurse said to me, “go home and get some rest. Your baby is safe. No news is good news. Come back in the morning”.
Albert and I drove the forty-five minutes home to Oshawa, Ontario from Markham in silence. I was lost in thought. I didn’t want to leave my baby. Albert didn’t know what to say or think.
About an hour into being home the telephone rang. It was the hospital. Albert answered the cordless phone.
“Yes, this is Albert. Yes, okay. Okay. When are they taking her? Okay we are on our way”.
Albert then looked at me and said “They have placed Laura on life support. She can no longer breathe on her own. They are taking her to Toronto Sick Kids hospital by air ambulance. They said there was nothing more they could do and that it would be best for us to return to the hospital. We gotta go. I will get Aunt Char to continue watching Liv for us”.
I buckled. I didn’t say a word. As my knees hit the floor I let out the most gut wrenching scream cry of my life. I think I got a couple of instant grey hairs that day. After recollecting myself and Albert’s loving support, we made our way back to the hospital. When we arrived, Laura was being seen by a doctor, a nurse, and two ambulance crew. They had prepped her for transport. The female paramedic came over to me. She handed me a couple of pictures she had taken of Laura to give to me.
“Here, these are for you. Your baby is beautiful. She is in good hands”.
“Can I come with you please”, I asked.
“No. Unfortunately you can’t. You and your husband can drive there though. You are welcome to be with your baby at any hour and at any time. You can head there now. We will likely be there already with Laura being taken care of”.
With that, Albert and I got into our car and headed for Toronto. Laura flew to Toronto Sick Kids hospital on December, 14, 1997. Albert and I drove back and forth between Oshawa and Toronto for nine consecutive days. During that time I was unable to produce milk. During that time, we were in a sterile room with no windows to be opened, and scrubs on within the hospital. This NICU was for the sick of the sickest babies. Any bacteria or slight chill in that room could be devastating for any of the babies in there. Albert and I had to scrub up and sterilize our hands before entering the room each and every time.
I’m not entirely sure which day it was when a doctor from that hospital asked me the same question about my religious favor. I was also informed of the chapel to which I could attend. The message I was receiving from the medical staff was to prepare for the worst. I prayed and prayed for God to take me instead.
On about the third day of Laura being in a somewhat stable, yet no real improvement condition, I, along with Albert were seated by Laura’s bed. Albert was by her head and I was seated to Laura’s side. I began to pray once again in my mind. As I prayed I felt a squeeze on my left shoulder and an ice cold sensation down my arm. I panicked. I looked around the room to see if there were any windows open. Then I looked at Albert and asked “do you feel that?”
Albert looked at me confused and asked for clarification. “Feel what?”
“Do you feel that cold?”, I replied.
“Clair it is hotter than hell in here. Laura is baking. No I don’t feel cold”.
That’s when I knew what I experienced was divine and not of this earthly world. With that, in my mind I said, “if that was you and you are telling me Laura will be okay, do it again. Please, do it again!”.
Again, I felt a loving squeeze of my left shoulder. At that same moment, Laura took a breath. Laura started breathing on her own. The machine made a sound and stopped so that Laura could take a breath. It was miraculous. She wasn’t breathing on her own before then. The medical staff were able to ween Laura off of life support. The machine only kicked in if Laura forgot to breathe.
From that moment on Laura made incredible improvements. My milk flowed like Niagra Falls. I pumped an abundance of milk in little containers for Laura. The medical staff then fed Laura my milk through a feeding tube. Laura became so well within such a short period of time that Albert and I were able to take her home on December, 23rd, 1997. I had my miracle Christmas baby with me. Laura is a beautiful person today and is also a mum herself. What a fighting spirit she has. I am proud to be Laura’s mum.
You see, there is so much to our existence that most are aware of. Spirit hears us. Spirit loves us. Spirit helps us when free will is honored. It’s just more often than not people, through external conditioning, tend to believe the universe talks outside of them only. This is only a part of the picture. The divine communicates in a plethora of ways and may not necessarily appear as a bolt of lightning or a winged angelic being. The divine speak with you through your feelings, your thoughts, and your external conscious awareness. The more you know yourself the easier it is to build a language and relationship with your divine team.
I wanted to share this true story to help highlight the fact that you are not alone. You merely have to remain present, open minded, and observant to the messages and sensation you are experiencing. Then trust it is real for you. You are loved. You are a miracle. You have a purpose. You are here for a reason, just like my beautiful, late twenties, baby girl.
LivWithClairity 
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