On January twenty ninth, nineteen ninety; twenty eight babies were born in surrounding hospitals in Middlesex county, New Jersey. A one pound two ounces of twenty one weeks premature baby was also born that day in St. Peters Hospital. The baby was no bigger than her doctors hand. She had many complications. Her skin wasn’t fully developed, so her mother couldn’t touch her without special gloves. She had a difficult time breathing so the doctor had to operated on her neck. She wasn’t fully developed because she was four months early. She was expected to die in the first few hours of her life with a twenty percent survival rate. There was a possibility that if she did make it through the first few hours that she might die that night. The mother of the baby cried and prayed. She lost one daughter and a son, she didn’t want to lose another child it would be to much for her to bare. That mother prayed, and asked God to take her baby now so she wouldn’t have to go through the agony later on. The baby survived that night. She didn’t die, like the doctors predicted. The baby spent five months in the hospital struggling for her life, learning how to breath and catching up in weight. Every day the babies mother and father were there to let her know that she was loved. January twenty ninth came around again. It was the her birthday. That once a preemie baby is seventeen years old. She knows that she has a calling and a purpose in life, because if she didn’t then she wouldn’t be alive today. The Lord allowed her to live.
Her calling in life is to be a psychologist. She wants to help people overcome their everyday obstacles in life, the way she over came her own.
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