Miracles really do happen, keep reading!

This is the picture of me at age 50, a miracle in itself. Why was this a miracle? Well, it begins with a birth that was difficult and left me with a severe disability.

I was born at 26 weeks, 3lbs and 4 ozs. Doctors in the small town where I was born really didn't believe that I would live. However, after a week it was decided that I should be moved to the Denver Children's Hospital since I appeared to be fighting to live.

I was airlifted to Denver, where my mother was told that I would probably be blind as they had no way to monitor the oxygen I would be getting during the flight. All they could do, was flood the incubator I was in with oxygen. There just wasn't the equipment available for neonates as there is today.

After arriving in Denver, it was discovered that I was not gaining weight. I had dropped to 2lbs 9 ozs and I was not breathing well on my own. Testing revealed that I had a blockage in my intestines, meaning I was not getting any nutrients out of my food. Doctors were unable to place IV's in any of my veins. They informed my mother and grandmother that I would probably die from this condition as there was little that could be done to mediate the problem. There was an experimental medicine they could try, but it had not been tried on humans so they were unsure of its effects.

My grandmother and mother went to the nearest church to pray, they ended up at a Catholic church in Denver. The medicine had been given to me and two twin baby boys, so it was just a matter of waiting to see if there was any positive effects. My grandmother and mother both prayed diligently for my recovery for about 30 minutes, then they walked backed to the hospital.

Upon arriving back at the hospital the doctors had unexplained news. Apparently, upon being given the medicine I began to respond immediately and started to gain weight. Unfortunately, the twins didn't respond and died shortly after being given this medication. The doctors couldn't even tell that I had ever had a blockage and couldn't explain my miraculous recovery. The only difference, my grandmother and mother prayed.

This was the beginning of my life, therefore I was told from the time I could remember that I was God's child from the beginning. This was only the first of many miracles that have occurred throughout my life.

The next miracle occurred shortly after I turned two, a local physician knew that something was wrong as I was not meeting developmental milestones. I didn't crawl or walk and everyone knew that I was not moving as a normal infant should. This local physician believed he knew what was wrong, but he couldn't tell my parents or grandparents because he wasn't a specialist. Therefore, he sent my parents with me to Truth or Consequences New Mexico, this was the location of the New Mexico children's hospital. There they diagnosed me with Cerebral Palsy. My father didn't tell my mother and neither did the doctors as they felt that she was too fragile to handle the information.

Later that year, my grandparents moved my mother and I to California, in an effort to get her away from my abusive father. Upon attempting to obtain welfare services, my mother was informed that I had Cerebral Palsy by the worker. Needless to say, my mother was quite upset. However, I was lucky enough to have an uncle that was a Shriner and an aunt that knew how to navigate such systems. This in itself was a miracle, as a doctor didn't inform my mother of problems, a social worker did.

At the beginning of 1973, I had a third miracle, the doctors at the Los Angeles children's hospital were able to do a surgery which allowed my feet and legs to begin moving. Within 18 months I learned to walk with the assistance of braces and therapy, so I got my third miracle. I then began having a series of surgeries on my legs and hands to ensure that I would be able to physically function on a more "normal" level.

At age 5, my fourth miracle occurred. I drowned in a swimming pool and was resuscitated. This was only the first time I would die and be brought back. At age 8, I was anesthetized for surgery, only a mistake was made. I was given enough for a full grown man, but I only weighed 60 pounds. Thus, I died and was brought back again. My mother was informed that there were many parts of "normal" life I would never be able to participate in. However, she didn't believe that so she treated me no different than her other children. She we told that my lifespan would be limited and I wasn't likely to live past my early 20's. Also, that I would probably never be able to have children of my own and that I shouldn't be encouraged to believe that I would have a normal life. Miracle upon miracles, my mother believed otherwise and didn't treat me differently nor did she tell me anything the doctors told her about what I couldn't do. This was probably the biggest miracle because it allowed me to strive to achieve a life as "normal" as everyone else.

They had been telling her since I was 3, that I should be treated differently and placed in special schools for handicapped children. My mother refused to listen to their dire predictions and placed me in public school. This was difficult for me and I have severe behavioral problems when learning to deal with the mean things others said to me. However, she never let me forget that I was God's child and that I could do and be anything I wanted to be. I learned to show everyone that I could beat there odds. By age 12, I was working around my neighborhood and playing the violin, despite the fact that the doctors said I wouldn't be able to do that. I had several more surgeries and each time I learned to walk again without the aid of braces, having my last leg surgery in 1986.

By the time of my last surgery, I was quite adept at telling others what I could do, refusing to admit the limitations that others wanted to place on me. I successfully finished high school and finished a semester of college, before marrying in 1989. A year later, I had my next miracle, I delivered a healthy baby boy who is now an adult himself.

Remember, doctors had given me a shortened lifespan prediction. At age 29 I gave birth to another healthy baby boy and 13 months later to another son. During my last Cesarean section, I died for the third time. Once again, I was brought back and outlived the doctor's expectations. I received yet another miracle that day as my very small and premature son also survived. Indeed, the doctors began to use terms like enigma and shrug their shoulders when it came to my outcome. Each year that I had lived past about age 25 surprised them and each year they negatively predicted my early demise. I am now age 50 and the doctors often tell me that they do not know what to do to assist me with the difficulty of aging with Cerebral Palsy, but they no longer give me a deadline.

Some doctors have even suggested that I might outlive them. All my children are adults and even though my youngest is Autistic and has his own struggles. We survive beyond the "normal" expectations and live by the motto: "normal" is only a setting on a washing machine.