I remember waking up in the hospital on that cold, hard bed in 2001 to an infertility doctor telling me that we wouldn't have a baby without In Vitro Fertilization, a very grim prospect to two young married people, who were not financially set and could not afford a procedure that in our doctor's words "would cost as much as a shiny new Buick". My tubes were completely blocked on both sides in the worst of possible places. In addition, my ex husband's fertility was impacted by cancer treatments. Saddened and fearing that I would never be a mommy, I was released later that day. After many tears and lots of hard work, I found a surgeon who would be willing to try to surgically fix the problem with an understanding of a slim chance of success. Again, I awoke in the hospital. This time with a tiny pinch of hope. Two months later we were pregnant with our Maggie May. The next months were among the best in my life. My tiny baby fluttered around making herself known and very quickly attaching herself to my soul. Grandparents got excited. Ultrasound images gave us sneak peaks at our miracle in the works. It was just an ordinary pregnancy until October 24, 2002. Maggie was born and would not survive. We held our miracle in our hands and said goodbye. I studied her delicate little features until I was sure they would never be erased from my mind. I counted each finger and toe and kissed her tiny forehead. Her daddy held our little miracle and my mind noted that she was so small her little legs hung barely past the wrists of his large hands. His tears fell upon her as he said goodbye. This day would prove to be the worst and best day of my life. In tears as I write this, I thank God for sending me the miracle of Maggie May. I thank him for allowing us to conquer all and experience life outside of our own, to know an unconditional love not known to us before, to come to know our own little miracle in the works, our fighter, Maggie May Dawson. May she rest in peace until we can hold her again. We love you baby.