Home » About miracles

About miracles

The first thing we learned was that we needed a miracle.  That’s what we were told it would take, so we thought a while about miracles.

We knew nothing about miracles before Miriam’s birth.  We weren’t exactly against them, but we hadn’t really considered them.  Nigel had once worked as an assistant to Yogi Shanti, who would cry out “it’s a miracle!” anytime he saw a plane or a remote control device or anything else similarly inexplicable to everyone except the engineers who specialize in such things.  “Miracle,” meant then, that there was a way, but Medical Science had no idea how that way worked.

We witnessed a miracle in Hospital de los Ninos.  We met a young woman whose daughter had a similar injury to our daughters’ injury, but supposedly even worse off.

The woman was cheery and bright, with smooth skin and a sly smile that she made me think of a picture of the Virgin Mary.  She didn’t act like the rest of us.  She was absolutely certain that her baby was fine, and that this was all pretty much a mistake.  This was her first child and she didn’t have a good milk flow yet and she asked for it so we we shared some of our milk with her.  Sitting on the center of the crummy, crumbling leatherette couch in the dingy pumping room at HN she advised us to remind our babies to ignore the doctors, because speaking that way about babies was terrible for their health.  Her mother, the baby’s grandmother looked at her worriedly when she made this proclamation, more than once over several days.  The rest of us looked more like grandmother, scared and mousy.  This young woman went out to get her nails done,  buy a new outfit for the baby, brought friends in to see her,  made plans for what they would do together once this nightmare was all over and they could go home and grow up together.

Her baby was on life support, completely drugged, all the tubes and hoses, the works.  The doctors told her one day that her baby would be dying that day as there was nothing they could do, her case was beyond treatment, and they were getting ready to remove the tubes, cut her off.  She replied that her baby was fine.  The doctors sent for a psychologist to speak with her.  She ignored the psychologist’s words and earnest face.

The time came to remove the tubes.  Contrary to the prediction, the baby breathed on her own.  Ten days later baby was eating, pooping, doing everything a newborn usually does, and on her way home with her mother.