* I had originally written this a few years ago for a March Of Dime Light a Little Star in my area. I have updated it at the bottom. This is my daughters (and mine) true story. :)

I was born at 8:39 pm on Friday, March 27, 1998. I was supposed to be born on July 4, 1998, but in order to save both my mother and me from severe toxemia and eventually death for us both; they made me join the world early. I came into the world naturally with my dad near to my mom's side but I never saw them because as soon as I was born and the cord was cut two doctors and five nurses secured me in a corner. The doctors and nurses cleaned me in and out, and did many other things before telling my parents that I was alright for now. Then they took me from the room, without my mom and dad.

It was a couple of hours later, after I was settled into a plastic domed oxygen tent before they let my daddy come and see me. After he saw me, he brought in my grandparents to look at me through the misted plastic covering. I never saw my mommy.

For the full story, click on the title.

It was a little over a day later before the doctors allowed my mother to come and see me. They said she had to wait until she finished the medication that had kept us both alive before she was allowed to be out of bed. Then she came and sat with me for a long time. She was with me almost all of the time for a few days. Then daddy took her home, without me. I was not breathing too well, so they had to cut my chest open a little bit and ballooned back out a collapsed lung. I breathed a lot better after that. They called me a micro preemie with immature lungs. My parents named me Victoria Dea because Victoria stood for victory and Dea means goddess. My mommy and daddy just knew I was a survivor.

During the next couple of months, they did many tests on me. I was low on blood and had to have three blood transfusions. I also had Retinopathy of Prematurity at Level 3, ROP is when the retina detaches from your eye - you go blind at level or stage five. I was fortunate enough not to have any brain bleeds, and no hearing problems. I was very tiny though, although I weighed 1 pound 9 ounces at birth, I dropped to 1 pound 2 ounces within the first 24 hours. I also had two forms of sepsis. I was prone to apnea and brady's. I had jaundice.

Until I was one month old, my mommy and daddy could only touch me through little holes in my isolet. However, on that day, one month after I was born, my mommy got to hold me for the first time. Her hands were shaking as she held me close to her trying not to make one of my heart monitor leads come off, or my feeding tube to come out. We just looked at each other and I fell asleep until the nurses said that I had been out too long, maybe next time I could stay out a little longer. Time went by and my daddy fed me my first baby bottle. After I was well over 2 months old, my mommy, and daddy gave me my first "bath" with the help of a nurse.

Mommy and daddy had to sign many papers and take CPR classes during the last month. They brought clothes to put on me, too big but it was more covering than the vest that the auxiliary women sewed for me. I got a little bit bigger of a pacifier to suck on, and was drinking almost a whole bottle now. I was going to go home if I did not have any more brady's. Nevertheless, I did. Therefore, instead of coming home on my due date, I had to wait a few extra days. My mommy and daddy finally took me home on July 6, 1998 after I had stayed 101 days at Shands UF. I took with me nothing but my toys, clothes, mom and dad, and memories. I did not need any machines to keep me alive. My hearing was good, and a few days later I went back to see about my ROP and found that I had progressed out of the disease and now had no problems. All was needed was love, safety, and to gain some more weight since I was just shy of 6 pounds at 3 months old.

I am seven years old now, a second grader that makes good grades. I have no problems that I cannot handle, even the kids that call me skinny and make jokes do not hurt me too much, and I have been through worse. In kindergarten they used to make fun of my teeth, let's just face it - preemies don't have good baby teeth, but I am losing my baby teeth and my smile is looking good now.

The only thing left to do is grow. My height is good, and my mommy says I have big feet. I am only 39 pounds at 7 years old. I will make it though it: I just know it.

UPDATE

6/27/2007: I am now nine years old. I am going in the 4th grade. I am still skinny, I still have big feet, my teeth look great, and I am average height. I weigh in at a little over 50 pounds. My pants are fitting a little tighter everyday! Maybe one day my mom will be able to buy some pants off the shelf that doesn't need to be mended in the waist in order for me to fit into them.