In June 2000, I was on my knees in the intensive care unit at WakeMed praying that my six-month-old baby would live. She was diagnosed with bacterial meningitis and doctors told us things were touch and go, that if she survived the night she had a fighting chance.
In those moments when I prayed in the darkness, only the whirring and pinging of the machines keeping her alive slicing through the silence, I pictured who she might be if she lived. I decided that if I could visualize her future that it might come true. So, I pictured birthdays, graduations, a wedding—I fast-forwarded her life inserting hopeful milestones along the way. I also said aloud that I knew she had something important to contribute to the world. That for this reason she needed to survive.
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Today, that baby turned 21 years old. My imagination as I kneeled on that hard linoleum floor has been far surpassed by the young woman I see in front of me now. Stunningly beautiful, bright, confident, she is everything I imagined and more. I can’t wait to see how the rest of her story goes.
So, as I celebrate this milestone—one that families routinely celebrate for each child—there is nothing routine about it for me. She defied the odds. She has something to contribute to the world. I don’t know what it is yet, I’m not sure she does either. But she is here, and for that I am eternally grateful.
Amanda is the mom of two, a reporter for WRAL-TV and the author of several books including some on motherhood. Find her here on Mondays.