Simple Faith, Big Miracles

A Story of Faith Written by Alena Tapia

As I ponder my faith journey, I think of God’s hand in my life and recognize that I have so much to be grateful for. I was raised with faith in God and learned of His plan from childhood. As I get older, I try to learn more about His plan for me. 

We are each blessed with spiritual gifts, and mine is the ability to believe. I’ve always been a believer who never really questioned anything, not because I felt I shouldn’t, but because I never felt the need to. I simply believed what I was taught. Now that I am older I do question things more, but I still have a simple faith in believing that things will work out.

Sometimes life throws you curveballs and the impact knocks you down. I’ve had many trials in my life, but have been fortunate,  and believing that God has a plan and everything will work out has helped to keep me calm. My faith is there and it’s simple. 

My first child, who we named Nora, was born prematurely—not just by a couple of days or even weeks, but months. She was born at 26 weeks. I remember the experience very clearly. Thanksgiving night I was spotting a little bit, but I thought little of it and decided I would go to the doctor on Monday if I continued to bleed. 

The bleeding continued, so I went to the doctors and was told that I was fine and that if I was still troubled by it at the end of the week, I could come back in and request an ultrasound. Since it was my first baby I assumed all that was told to me was true and tried not to worry. The bleeding and pressure continued, so I called the next day and the response was the same. My sister-in-law encouraged me to get an ultrasound because it didn’t seem normal. 

When I got off the phone with my sister-in-law, I started to make dinner when I felt what I now understand to be a contraction.contraction. It was mild and didn’t trouble me, but what was concerning was the lower back aches that I started to feel. I thought my back was going to go out. 

As the evening went on, I continued to feel the discomfort, but it wasn’t painful. My body naturally knew what to do and I breathed through the contractions and back aches. Fortunately, the night prior, my husband and I had taken a class about how to deal with contractions, what your body does, how to breathe, and how you can focus on each contraction and not the pain. It was a true blessing that we happened to take that class the day before I went into labor.

Near midnight, I got into the shower and I started to make long vowel noises as the contractions got more intense (Again, I had no idea they were contractions). My husband jokingly asked if I was in labor and I chuckled at him and said, “No.”

When I got into bed I noticed the contractions were becoming more uncomfortable and my husband suggested we go to the ER, and though I was initially resistant, I remembered something my co-worker had recently told me, “When you are having contractions between 4-6 minutes apart you should go to the doctor.” That moment was when I finally realized I was experiencing contractions. I timed them, and sure enough they were between 4-6 minutes apart. I told my husband, “Let’s go to the hospital, I’m sure it’s nothing, I guess we’ll just pay for peace of mind.” I look back at that moment now and think of how calm I was. I simply believed I was going to be fine and I’d be at work the next day.

We arrived at the ER and the hospital staff sent us straight up to Labor and Delivery. The nurses hooked me up to a monitor and sure enough, I was having contractions and was fully dilated. Everything happened so fast. They called my doctor, and a rush of nurses and doctors dashed in and out. I received an epidural just in case I needed a C-section—my biggest fear. Somehow though, after hearing I was in fact going into surgery and everything else that had just happened, I was completely calm and at peace. I remember everyone telling me how positive I was because I would just smile and say, “Okay.” 

Before the surgery I told myself, “Okay, this is happening.” I took a deep breath and felt fine. I didn’t panic. Somehow I wasn’t scared of what was happening, if anything I was excited to see her. I knew Nora was going to be fine. 

And then Nora was born. She was one pound and fifteen ounces, and she was beautiful! She was in the NICU for four months and during those four months I absolutely loved coming in every day to care for her, hold her, sing to her, and give her love. The NICU became our second home. 

Nora is our miracle baby. She was a sassy little thing in the NICU and I feel like that’s what kept her going. She didn’t have any major problems. She was just little and needed time to grow. I realize now how this experience could have been devastating, but this experience was a beautiful one for me. I know God has a plan for His children. For whatever reason Nora needed to come sooner. For whatever reason Nora was saved and she is still a little sassy thing. She is strong. She is resilient. She is beautiful. She is a daughter of God and she’s my miracle baby.

My faith during the birth of my daughter was consistent.  Now, two and a half years later, it still is and again I feel I owe it to my spiritual gift of believing. I believed in Christ when my daughter was born. I know He was there, along with all my women ancestors, rooting me on and giving me strength. Faith in Christ is a growing thing. With every experience that I have, good or bad, I know He is there. And it is up to me to build my faith in Him and keep that beautiful relationship growing.

Because of Him, I have my beautiful little girl, Nora.