Amaris

Amaris.

I've shared this story so many times already that I've lost count of how many times I've shared it. What I do know is that it's proven to be an inspiration for many - and a reminder for me.

Maria Julia Amaris was born on May 30, 2002. We had prayed for a name, and Maria Julia Ysabel was what we got. Thinking it was too long, we eventually decided on simply "Maria Julia".

She weighed in at 2.2kgs., and was really small and fragile. My wife and I went down to the nursery together so that Julia could have her first taste of mothers' milk. After a few minutes of trying, my wife had to stop to rest. So Julia went back to her crib in the nursery while my wife and I went up to the room. It was barely 3:00PM.

Just a little before 4:00PM, our doctor came in and gave us the news. The milk Julia drank all went into her lungs. We then listened in quiet disbelief as she explained five possibilities - each worse than the other - of why this happened. She ended by saying that the worse case could have been a malformation in her throat and windpipe that would require pedia-surgery.

We could do nothing but cry. And we cried some more when we saw our daughter with tubes and needles stuck in her nose, mouth, hands and feet.

We said a short prayer, I tucked my wife in bed, and went over to SM Southmall to pay a couple of bills. Walking past an internet shop, a thought came to mind. I went in and searched for babies names, where I came across the name "Amaris' - Hebrew for "Promised by God". I called the hospital and had the name added to my daughter's name, making it "Maria Julia Amaris". "I had to remind God of His promise to give us a healthy child" I told my wife later. "He'll have to keep His promise now". My wife agreed.

Before noon the next day, our doctor came in with the news: Tests have cleared our daughter of any other problems. The only possibility remaining was the malformation - which would need pedia-surgery. She left. We prayed a short prayer of thanks.

Before 4:00pm (barely 24 hours since we got the initial fearful news), our doctor walked in again and gave us the final verdict. "Your daughter is perfectly normal - and perfectly healthy!" The incident that caused the fear was just a result of, uh, "wrong feeding". Suffice it to say that we were happy.

Later, I researched the original "third" name of Julia: Ysabel.

It was Spanish for "Promised by God".

We asked for a name. God gave it to us. We took away the promise in our daughter's name. God found a way to get us to put it back in.

Let's live on God's promises. My daughter surely did.