I believe in angels...

I had a troubled pregnancy from the beginning. But things calmed down and, for a few months, everything went smoothly. I had a little morning sickness and I didn't gain much weight -- a marked contrast from my previous two pregnancies. But then, in mid-February, trouble started again. At the hospital, the monitor showed that I was having regular contractions, though I felt nothing. For a week, they tried to suppress the birth.

But she'd have none of it.

Due on April 13, she was born on February 21.

That was 1992

And today Carrie turns 18 years old.

People have insisted that I must have been terrified that she wouldn't make it. I never was. Whether it was faith or stubbornness, I don't know. I do know that the night before she was born, I was visited by angels. I don't claim that it was anything but a dream but, then again, who's to ask how God sends His messages? Sometimes, perhaps, the only time we'll really listen is when we're asleep and our mouths aren't moving.

The angels that I saw were not lily-white. They were grimy -- their feathers ruffled and soiled.

I knew exactly why.

They were working hard and when you work hard, you get dirty.

And I knew everything would be okay.

Happy Birthday, Carebear!