Where there is great love, there are always greater miracles. 

                                                                                     - Willa Cather

Two hours after the birth, I had yet to meet my tiny son. I was told I could see him soon. Twice they wheeled my bed to his pod in the NICU, only to find he was still in resuscitation. When I arrived in my new room where I would recover for the next three days, we received a phone call that the nurse put on speaker phone for Steven and I to hear. They told us that tiny Alex was rapidly going downhill, and they needed us to come see him in the resuscitation room. 

Numb, overwhelmed and terrified, they wheeled my recovery bed in by his table. He was covered with plastic for warmth, already had many tubes all over his body, and his face was covered with a hat. I saw his beautiful pink feet poking out, and a tiny pink hand up a little further. He was so much smaller than I had anticipated. I watched him helplessly as they explained what was happening. He had done so well with everything up until that point. His ability to breathe had quickly gone from very good to very bad, and he wasn't responding to the oxygen. There was talk of needing to do a transfusion, but there was no time to find out his blood type, and losing that much blood would definitely be harmful to such a tiny being in that state. Through my tears I was able to squeak out a request to touch my baby. A wonderful doctor quickly replied "Absolutely." 

I reached out to touch his tiny toes, and he pushed back against me. I put my finger in his hand, and immediately felt pressure in return. My tiny baby was clinging to me, as if begging an answer "Mommy, what's happening? Please help me." 

My heart burst in that moment. My baby needed me! With all the doctors needed to do, my baby still needed me! He held on with all his strength, until his fingers turned white, and he wouldn't let go. As I watched my beautiful little boy through my tears, I heard my sweet husband crying behind me. As he held my hand and we watched our baby, we became a family.

Over the next few minutes, I heard the doctors say he was improving, and that his oxygen levels were going up, with him being able to breathe more freely on his own. The feeling in the room was slowly changing. From feeling there was a high chance we would lose our son, there began to be hope that everything would be alright. 

The doctors and nurses said he was on his way back up from that downward slope, and as I was wheeling back to my room, we thought that Steven should stay back to give him a name and also a blessing. My Mom asked a nurse if she could track down another priesthood holder, and then she accompanied me back to my room, where we waited for news of Alex.

Steven gave Alex a name and a blessing with another man who also spoke Spanish. Halfway through the blessing, Steven felt a peace come over him, and he was able to bless Alex with strength and health. Alex continued to improve that night, and the next morning was holding his own (with the help of many machines) very well. The doctor was surprised that he had so quickly taken a turn for the better.

What sweeter gift than this? Such a strong little man, so ready to fight to be with us. He has brought beauty and tenderness into our lives. He has shown us the meaning of love. He has worked a miracle in us.

Though the next few months will be full of daily roller coasters with ups and downs in his health, we feel confident that what Alex is going through is in the Lord's hands. He continues to need us on a daily basis. Though we wish there were more we could do for him, we live for those moments each day when we can reach our hands into his incubator, place them on his tiny toes, his hands, his head, and watch him respond. 

We can imagine no sweeter blessing.