To My Precious Caroline,

Nine years ago, you came into this world. Although we decided not to find out what you were at the earlier ultrasound, I wasn't at all surprised when Dr. P told me "it's a girl." As if you would be anything else but a perfect and sweet little lady. Three kids aged four and under was hard for mom, and harder still when your "little cold" at 5 weeks-old turned into RSV/pneumonia. You were admitted to the hospital in respiratory distress and turned blue in my arms as we were getting settled into your hospital room. Your Daddy saved you before the nurses could even get there. He's good that way.

Those first few days in the hospital were exhausting and terrifying. No one could tell me for sure when or if you were going to get better. I missed your older brother and sister, but couldn't leave you. Your Dad had to work and see to your brother and sister, so he was rarely there to give me any breaks from the loud roar of the oxygen compressor and the tick tick of the slow minutes that passed while I waited for someone, anyone to tell me how this was going to end. After a few days in the hospital; you seemed much better to the relief of everyone. But we were there over a week before you were released. By today's hospital standards of 'patch 'em up and send 'em home' it felt like much longer than than.

I remember that last morning, with the sun streaming through the window when your nurse finally unhooked all your wires that had made nursing you so awkward, and handed you to me. I smiled for what felt like the first time in ages and to my delight you smiled right back at me. Going home felt almost like the day we left the hospital the first time, except that this time I had a much stronger sense of exactly how much of a precious miracle you were.

Since then, you have grown up into a beautiful, feisty, bright, and clever girl who I am usually very proud of. Only a touch of seasonal asthma remains to testify of that scary week we almost lost you. I remember fearing that perhaps the lack of oxygen before we knew exactly how sick you were might have some kind of lasting effect, but you are just as smart and devious as your siblings. You especially proved this with your very successful first business venture which, sadly, your Dad, your teacher, and I had to shut down since it bordered on the side of gambling. (She played the "number game" with her classmates. She thought of a number, everyone gave her a quarter, and the person who guessed the number won most of the quarters. She always kept $1 in quarters because, in her words, "I ran the game, Mom. And that was my payment.") But all shady business ventures aside, I am proud to be your mother and feel more than a little blessed that you are still with us.

So far, your birthdays have been full of ice storms, traffic jams, and today; a house full of smoke from a faulty heating/air unit. But we have pulled through all of it rejoicing just like we did on both days we brought you home from the hospital. Happy Birthday Caroline! We love you.