Journal #3

Almost 17 years ago, my brown eyes covered by my small eyelids, gleamed with the hospital light. It was May 12, 1999, the day God and my mother gave me my greatest gift, life. I was a small and fragile baby born at just over seven heavy pounds. I cried just like any other baby does, I was alive. The doctors held me and cleaned my gentle body. I was handed to my mother and was comforted by the warmth of her body. My heart beat slowly and I took my first breaths. Nothing would ever overcome this beautiful gift, the opportunity to be alive and breathing. It was a blessing to finally be alive after several months inside my mother. I wake up every morning and realize how lucky I am to still be breathing just as I did the first seconds of my life. Several arms held me although I was very small and barely breathing for the first time. My soft face warmed my mother’s heart and made her heart skip a beat the first time she saw me. I was very warm and my small hands moved slowly still getting used to moving in this amazing life. My chubby legs extended and stretched as I felt the strength of my small muscles. I was amazed by myself and amazed by the world I was in, I was surprised and confused at where I was. I was blessed with life and lucky to be able to breath and move around. May 12, 1999, I was finally breathing and born healthy at Saint Francis Medical Center in Lynwood, California. God had given me the greatest gift, the biggest blessing, a family, a breath, and most importantly this amazing thing, this thing called life. I was blessed to have this.