When our children are born, don't we all believe we have created a miracle? Don't we all feel as though we've brought forth into this world the most enchanting thing we've ever seen? Every mother feels there couldn't possibly be a child as perfect or as beautiful as hers. I'm guilty of this thought as well. My first child, a daughter, was born on January 30, 1992 at 10:50 in the morning, and after forty-seven hours of labor, …showed first 75 words of 663 total…

…showed last 75 words of 663 total…and selfless for someone so young. Each time I look at her I'm dazzled by her child-like glamour. But today, my mind keeps wondering back to an earlier time - a time when I thought there couldn't possibly be a child comparable to her. Then thoughtfully, as I close the treasured book once more, I realized that in my unbiased search for such a child, my second daughter was born - but that's another story.