Thank you, all, for your continued support during this tumultuous roller coaster of a ride …

One thing keeps recurring through this ordeal … one word keeps getting repeated. And that, of course, would be “prayer.”

I don’t mean to sound preachy, I’m just talking …

I haven’t really “said my prayers” since I was a little boy. I regularly do now. I’m not a particularly religious man. I feel myself moving in that direction now.

It’s been a remarkable 4 and a half months, and it’s not yet over, but here’s where we stand:

Talk, finally, if only preliminarily, of Sophia coming home. It has to be largely due to “prayer.” Literally thousands, maybe more, have offered prayers for Sophia, literally all over the world. Masses have been said in her name in Catholic Churches all across the country … and more. I know this to be fact. Here in little old Marion, folks I have no idea who they are come up to me just to tell me that they are praying for our baby. My feelings regarding this are rather overwhelming.

It wasn’t very long ago that Sophia lay there, barely alert, with skin lesions all over her body … scabbing, oozing, bloody … just removing a bandage shredded her oh so delicate skin. She was disintegrating right there before your eyes. This in addition to a myriad of other life-threatening conditions. The skin thing was just the most noticeable to the naked eye.

Less than a week later, she was virtually entirely healed.

As a nurse said to Elaine, just the other night, and I paraphrase, “I’ve seen a lot of babies here. None heal so fast. It is prayer at work.”

It really is …

Then there was that late afternoon when she “waved.” That was minutes after the doctor practically had given up in despair. It was as if she was telling us, “It’ll be OK.” And it was … the next day she was miraculously diagnosed – finally – and has been on a more or less upswing ever since.

And speaking of “… swing” … Sophia has been swinging on a baby swing and listening to music as she does … and thoroughly enjoying herself while doing so … wide-eyed & bushy-tailed. Utterly amazing.

It’s not over … there may be trials ahead, still, but there is more at work here than just good medicine …and even the medical staff states so. Their faith is uncanny … and catching!

I have never cried – or been on the constant verge of crying – so much in my lifetime. Many times, they have been tears of joy.

Sophia – no matter what the final outcome turns out to be – is in very good hands.

Her arrival here on Earth has, along with 9-11, been the defining moment of my life.

Thank you, little one. Daddy loves you!

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