I am currently serving in the British Army so I am used to being in control of situations when put on the spot. That was until three years ago when my second daughter was born.

The pregnancy was fairly normal for my wife until her due date came—and went. This baby was definitely comfortable and was giving no sign of coming soon. Finally, ten days overdue, they induced my wife. Two and a half hours later our beautiful daughter was born, but in a bad way. She had inhaled meconium on her way out and her umbilical cord was round her neck cutting off her oxygen supply. She was rushed to neonatal intensive care seconds after she had finally been born. The few seconds that we saw of her showed a very pale floppy baby. Naturally my wife was in a bad way. All I could do was be the strong one for my wife, to comfort her and to talk to the doctors and nurses when they were explaining to us what was going to happen. Thankfully we were both allowed to stay on the ward that night, so I drove home to get a few things together to stay over. When I got home I had a moment to think through what had happened. I broke down and cried. I felt so hopeless and useless for the first time, and I prayed. For the first time ever I really prayed. I begged God to help my daughter and promised if He did, I would be His forever.

That night at the hospital I must have walked up to the neonatal intensive care unit every hour. And every time I spoke to the nurse by my daughter’s cot, he told me she was getting a little stronger. It was ten days before we got to go home and have all the family in one place.

It’s now three years later and my daughter is charging around and playing happily with her sisters. And my faith is getting stronger as I learn more about God through reading my Bible and praying. I’m forever grateful for that one thing he did for us, let alone all the love he gives.