Imagine... bleeding two months into your pregnancy, and terrified that you're miscarrying again.

Imagine laying on the Dr's table that day, and hearing your child's heartbeat for the very first time.

Imagine bleeding and contracting at 22 1/2 weeks, and being admitted to the hospital, only to be sent home the next day with a diagnosis of chronic abruption, and being told that your doctor isn't going to do anything, since you're just going to miscarry anyway.

Imagine your doctor blowing you off a week later, when you call and plead for an appointment, and then making the best decision of your life- to be admitted to a different hospital, with an NICU.

Imagine... giving birth four hours after arriving at the new hospital.

Imagine being told that your 23 1/2 week daughter has less than a 20% chance of survival.

Imagine that when your daughter is 2 weeks old she gets a Staph infection, and due to the strain her oxygen saturation dipping lower and lower until they are in the 70's on a good day.

Imagine- discussing with a Doctor what you want to have done *when* you take her off the life support- and then having her miraculously turn around the day before you were going to do it.

Imagine watching the doctors wheel her away for NEC surgery when she is just four weeks old, and your Grandmother just died the day before, and you don't know if you can handle two funerals in the same week... and she pulls through that as well.

Imagine looking at the three pound baby in the isolette next to her, and whispering to your daughter that someday she'll be "big like that."

Imagine calling the NICU from work, and the first thing you ask is how much she's pee'd... because you figure as long as she's still peeing, that's a good thing...

Imagine the crazy looks you get from your co-workers when they overhear you.

Imagine the day, when your child is 3 1/2 months old, the day you get to hold her for the first time...

Imagine the terror turning to joy when your daughter's nurse calls you a week later at work... to tell you she is no longer on the vent, but on a cannula instead.

Imagine when you are told that the pumping you've been doing from January until July is no good... your daughter cannot handle breastmilk.

Imagine finally taking your daughter home in August- 6 1/2 months after she was born- feeling like the luckiest person alive despite the monitor, the oxygen, the meds, and the g-tube.

Imagine your daughter going into respiratory distress after only one week at home, and watching her get vented and sedated, and wanting nothing more than to cradle her in your arms again, and you can't.

Imagine another four long months of waiting for her to come home again.

Imagine finally bringing her home two days before Christmas, and it doesn't matter that you're too poor to even have a Christmas, because she's the best Christmas present, ever.

Imagine having a doctor who is not concerned with her constant vomiting, and says that it's 'normal' even though it takes her six months to go from 12 to 14 pounds.

Imagine finally getting a decent doctor, and watching her grow and thrive like you've never thought possible.

Imagine developing emotional strength where there was none before, being assertive when before you were always submissive, and feeling self-confidence for the first time... and owing it all to your child...

Imagine being taken aback time and time again by the miracle embodied in her, the most stubborn and vivacious baby you've ever seen.

Imagine almost having the wind knocked out of you when you actually *think* about how small she used to be, and how long she is now.

Imagine just wanting to cuddle her up next to you as much as possible, but she's too inquisitive now, and wants to explore as much of her world as possible, away from mom...

Imagine... your daughter being your hero...

Brooke mom to ex 23 1/2 weeker Epiphany- 1-31-97; 1 lb, 7 1/4 oz (660 g); 11 3/4 inches long.