Smell Of Rain
A cold March wind
danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the
small hospital room of Diana Blessing.
Still groggy from
surgery, her husband David held her hand as they braced themselves for the
latest news. That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced
Diana, only 24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency cesarean to deliver
the couple's new daughter, Danae Lu Blessing.
At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound and nine ounces, they already
knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctor's soft words dropped
"I don't think she's going to make it," he said, as kindly as
he could. "There's only a 10-percent chance she will live through the
night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future
could be a very cruel one."
Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the
devastating problems Danae would likely face if she survived. She would
never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would
certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy
to complete mental retardation, and on and on.
"No! No!" was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old
son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day that they would have a daughter
to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was
slipping away. Through the dark hours of morning as Danae held onto life
by the thinnest thread, Diana slipped in and out of sleep, growing more
and more determined that their tiny daughter would live and live to be a
healthy, happy young girl. But David, fully awake and listening to additional
dire details of their daughter's chances of ever leaving the hospital alive,
much less healthy, knew he must confront his wife with the inevitable.
David walked in and said that we needed to talk about making funeral arrangements.
Diana remembers, I felt so bad for him because he was doing everything trying
to include me in what was going on, but I just wouldn't listen, I couldn't
listen. I said, "No, I don't want to listen to what the doctors say;
Danae is not going to die! One day she will be just fine, and she will be
coming home with us!"
As if willed to live by Diana's determination, Danae clung to life hour
after hour, with the help of every medical machine and marvel her miniature
body could endure. But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for
David and Diana. Because Danae's underdeveloped nervous system was essentially
'raw,' the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they
couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer
the strength of their love. All they could do, as Danae struggled alone
beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray
that God would stay close to their precious little girl.
There was never a moment when Danae suddenly grew stronger. But as the weeks
went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength
there. At last, when Danae turned two months old, her parents were able
to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later,
though doctors continued to gently, but grimly warn that her chances of
surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero.
Danae went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.
Today, five years
later, Danae is a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes
and an unquenchable zest for life. She shows no signs, whatsoever, of any
mental or physical impairment.
Simply, she is everything
a little girl can be and more, but that happy ending is far from the end
of her story.
One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving,
Texas, Danae was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local
ballpark where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing. As always,
Danae was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting
nearby when she suddenly fell silent.
Hugging her arms across her chest, Danae asked, "Do you smell that?"
Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied,
"Yes, it smells like rain."
Danae closed her
eyes and again asked,"Do you smell that?"
Once again, her
mother replied, "Yes, I think we're about to get wet, it smells like
Still caught in
the moment, Danae shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small
hands and loudly announced, "No, it smells like Him. It smells like
God when you lay your head on His chest."
Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Danae then happily hopped down to play with
the other children. Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed
what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known,
atleast in their hearts, all along.
During those long
days and nights of her first two months of life, when her nerves were too
sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Danae on His chest and
it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.