My hero, Logan

There is so much to this story, but space won't allow me to tell all.

It was three o'clock in the morning, April 9, 1996. My pregnant daughter came to me

and told me that she couldn't stop urinating. I told her she probably had a bladder

infection. In a short time she came to me a couple more times saying the same thing.

Finally it dawned on me that her amniotic fluid was leaking. By 3:30 a.m. I was rushing

her to UAB Hospital in Birmingham where we lived at the time. This was not supposed

to be happening now. She was not due for another nine weeks!

A team of doctors met us and immediately started the process of saving her and her

baby boy. They got her stabilized and finally told me she would be fine, but they just couldn't

make any promises about the boy. She lost all the fluid that protects the unborn baby.

Therefore, he was left unprotected for the duration of the pregnancy. I never knew how

important that fluid is until this situation.

After all the examinations were concluded, they sat me down and gave me all the

negative news that you NEVER want to hear. My grandson was not fully developed

and had a long way to go. They said they would put my daughter on complete bed rest

and try to keep the baby alive long enough for his heart and lungs to develop more.

According to the doctors, and they were great doctors, if my grandson were to by some

slight chance live, he would most likely be a vegetable. He would never walk. He would never talk.

It was touch and go practically every minute for the next 29 days. Finally, on

Friday, May 3 things were so bad they rushed her in for a c-section. The baby was

so stressed and fragile they were having a difficult time getting him out. The doctors and nurses

were working frantically to save his life. The doctor at one point was yelling "get him out, I've lost him."

This happened not once, but twice. We were told that he died those two times.

After what seemed like hours, they got him out and rushed, and I mean ran, to get him to

the infant ICU. The head doctor was motioning for my other daughter and me to follow him. When

they got him situated and pulled the covers from him, we both broke down at the sight we saw.

This little guy looked like had been taken to the woods and thrown round and round in a briar bush.

He was completely black, one side of his face was touching the other, it looked much like a pumpkin

when it begins to shrivle. One little foot looked like a hand it was so flat. Everywhere the umbilical cord touched his skin it left a deep cut. He carries those scars to this day. His skin was so tender you couldn't touch him anywhere for fear of cracking his skin. The doctors explained he had a brain-bleed on each side of the brain.

This meant that more than likely he would have cerebral palsy. He does have a case of cerebral palsy,

not as bad as it could have been, but more than enough. He was so small and fragile (barely two pounds)

and beat up that it broke our hearts to look at him. I suppose, to me, one of the most pitiful sights was when he cried. No sounds would come out. Heartbreaking!

He was in infant ICU for 60 days and every day was a challenge. He was on a heart

monitor and each time it sounded we panicked. I walked in one day and found him

with a needle in his little head that looked bigger than his legs, which it probably was. They were

giving him a blood transfusion through his tiny head!

He had back surgery before he was one year old, double hernia surgery, several heel cord lengthenings,

botox injections with huge needles in his little legs. I could go on and on but as I said earlier space won't

permit.

I know there have been, and will be thousands more with much worse conditions and I pray for them daily,

but when it is your own, it is always bad.

Logan is now 14 years old and still has issues. He has a moderate case of cerebral palsy.

He has never been one to complain with his situation and has most certainly never used it as an excuse

to get out of anything. He has been an honor roll student and instead of being "not bright" as were

told he would be, he is very intelligent. He has taught me so much about adversity and I continue to learn from him.

He is facing still another surgery in May with the possibility of spending his summer in a cast.

But you won't hear him complain. From day one, every doctor and nurse has called him a great trooper.

He is my grandson, Logan Gaines, and I call him a "HERO"

The following is an excerpt from my diary on Tuesday, April 9, 1996.

"I took Shelly to UAB Hospital at 3:30 a.m. today. Her water broke.

According to the doctors it was and is a scary situation. But my faith is strong. I know

God's promise to me. He has never let me down and I know he won't this time.

Logan will be a healthy, wonderful person."

And thanks be to God, he is!

Remember, you could be one of my heros/heroins.