Fourteen years ago this Mother's Day I had a baby boy two months premature. He was our miracle child. He was my third and last birth child. My first baby was delivered by an emergency c-section. Then during my second baby's birth I had a uterine rupture where after ten centimeters dilated, being told to push, my baby came out into my stomach, my uterus ruptured from the first c-section I had. I remember every one panicking, I heard buzzers going off "code blue" I started to vomit. After that I awoke the next day with family around me. I was told that I was extremely lucky, that after the uterine rupture, I wasn't suppose to survive that night. I needed three blood transfusions. My baby from swallowing my own blood and struggled with the lack of oxygen remained in an incubator and was assessed for brain damage. He was ten and a half pounds. Miraculously we were both fine and left two weeks later. I received nurse support for a few months. I was so weak from so much blood loss. I remember feeling light headed walking from one room to the next. After my second child, I was told I couldn't have any more children. My tubes were burnt. From there I married my second husband who had no children. My husband said it didn't matter to him to have his own birth child but it bothered me. We found a specialist that said we could try and have one baby. We went to Vancouver where they repaired only one fallopian tube. The other side wasn't repairable. I also found out I wasn't ovulating. So I started taking fertility drugs. To conceive my chances were slim but a few months later I was pregnant. My pregnancy was great up until I was approximately five months along. I was told I had complete placenta previa where my placenta was covering my cervix. I needed to be on strict bed rest. Around six months pregnant my uterus started weakening and the amniotic fluid started leaking through my previous c-section incisions. I was then hospitalized. A few plus weeks later my placenta started hemorrhaging. I couldn't carry our baby to full term. Our son during Mother's Day weekend was born two months premature weighing six pounds. Our baby boy remained in the hospital for three weeks. I pumped breast milk every three hours, we learned together to breastfeed. I breastfed for 27 months. He was our miracle baby. A baby we were told not to conceive, that we were taking a risk with not only my life but his. Fourteen years ago on Mother's Day weekend we were given a gift, a baby boy named Joshua. Mother's Day for me is an appreciation. I am so thankful that I was able to birth children, and we were able to adopt. Children have transformed and enhanced our life. I do recognize and feel for other individuals that can't have children, and/or are waiting to adopt, and/or have lost children. Mother's Day is not only a day to honor but for some, it's a day of grieving. Regardless what Mother's Day means to you......I wish every one peace within your hearts.