She was a miracle baby. A lot of people say it, but in her case, it's true. I have something called Kell antibody, a condition that would treat every embryo, aside from the first, as a foreign danger to be fought. It's much like an Rh negative situation, but with no treatment nor preventative measure. One day, the baby can be healthy and strong, and the next, die of anemia because the body attacks the baby's blood through the womb. From the 20th week, frequent ultra sounds are offered to keep an eye on the baby, to make sure the baby isn't anemic. If that were to happen, the only ways to deal with it would be blood transfusion or induction. This condition should have affected her. Of the human population, only 8% have Kell. Of those 8%, only 2% are homozygous or have that problem with every birth. Most people with Kell have a 50% chance of the problem. We won the genetic lottery and are homozygous, guaranteed to deal with this every pregnancy. And yet, she was not affected. They watched her all the way through, and she was fine. The specialist asked me why in the world this did not touch her. I know now that it wasn't her time. She was tiny, less than six pounds and honking like a gosling, but healthy at birth.
I mentioned before that she was close to the angels. She seemed to spend more time bonding with people I couldn't see than those I could. She had a special smile for pictures of Jesus. Her baby blessing talked about how close she was to Jesus. I get the feeling in retrospect that she had only one foot on earth, and the rest of her was always on the other side of the veil.
She loved her mommy so much. It was hard to deal with colic from her second month to her third, but outside of those two months, she was an angelic baby. Especially during those two months, she'd fall asleep on me, only on me, and scream if I put her down or try to hand her off to anyone else. She wanted to cherish the time she had with me.
Alli was a bit of a music critic from her first week. Starting at one week old, she listened quietly to hymns, to children's songs, and to Celtic music. I still remember her enthralled face as she watched our "Celtic Women" DVD as the older kids sat on tummy time with her. She howled loudly through anything else, especially modern rock. It did not work well with her spiritual and gentle nature. At almost four months, she listened so reverently during an entire hour of church.
She was truly my special angel. As I come upon her sixth birthday in another month, I will cherish these memories and more. We will pull out her baby book and relive those memories as a family. I miss you, my sweet Alli.
