I’m the youngest of two. My brother is only 15 months older than me. When my Mum was pregnant with me, doctors said there were some complications and the best way to not continue having those complications was if they aborted me. They also said if she didn’t do it, either the baby would not survive or the baby would survive but with Down Syndrome and other disabilities.
Of course my parents were shocked and devastated, but they did not lose hope. They prayed hard and fought for me. Mum said Dad especially because he told her he was so very sure the baby inside was a girl (there was no Ultrasound yet in Indonesia at that time). So abortion was not an option. My parents had faith that God could turn things around for the best. They believed well.
9.5 months later, by God’s love and grace, a baby was born…healthy and normal, no disabilities whatsoever and…a GIRL. Doctors could not believe I was born alive and well. Mum and Dad were overwhelmed and beyond happy. “Miracle Baby Ella” was what the doctors called me. “Siren Serena” was what the nurses called me (because when I was born I cried so loud they said it sounded like a police siren. Haha. Oh, Serena is my middle name). “OUR DAUGHTER” was what my Mum and Dad called me.
I was told that Dad had never actually held a baby girl until I was born. So I was his first. And he wouldn’t put me down. Well, except when he had to go to work.
I was his miracle…his pride and joy…his little princess.
Even when I was already 17, got sick and had to stay home, Dad called his secretary and told her, “I’m going to be late. I have to take my little one to the doctor.” I repeat, I was already SEVENTEEN at that time. But I guess that’s just how daddies are, they will always see their daughters as 3-year-olds.
When I became a teenager and boys started to look at me, wherever we go Dad would put his arm around my shoulder and he always got this “don’t-even-think-about-messing-with-my-daughter-or-you’ll-experience-endless-pain” look on his face. And at office parties or family gatherings, Dad would always take me for a dance or two. I loved dancing with him and I can still remember his famous moves.
Mum and Dad did spoil me like crazy and became overprotective of me. But at the same time, they also disciplined me and were strict with their rules. Of course Dad and I had our differences; we debated, we fought, because we have the same stubborn character. I have to admit, there were times when I really don’t like being that protected. But I guess that’s what I would do to my child if I went through terrifying experiences my parents had to go through to bring me into this world.
When Dad passed away, it crushed me into pieces. He was sick for quite some time, but still it was so very hard to see him go. I still miss him terribly every now and then, but I know it’s better that he’s up there with God, than here enduring all those pain.
I thank God for my incomparable, irreplaceable, awesome parents. I thank Him for my Mum who’s still here with me. I thank Him for my Dad who’s already with Him in heaven. I believe not only was I their miracle, but they are also my miracle. I could not go through this life if I didn’t have them as my parents.
But, especially for you Dad, thank you for believing in me, even when you hadn’t seen me. Thank you for fighting for me and with me; you made me the strong, confident, brave woman I am today. I wish you could look into my heart and see how eternally grateful I am for you and the times we had together, and how I love you so very much, more than all the words in all the books in all the world.
I am forever your miracle, Daddy, as you are forever mine.
[ The words in the picture above always strengthen me in difficult times…because my parents always say them to me :) ]