For anyone who doesn’t know, the past two days have been some of the hardest of my life. On Sunday night around 9pm, I gave my six-week-old daughter, Camilla, a warm bath, fed her a bottle, and laid her gently in her bassinet for the night. I knew with her newborn schedule I’d be up again around midnight. I fell asleep around 10, but at exactly 1:15am, I woke with a terrible feeling that I shouldn’t have slept that long.
I went over to Camilla and put my hand on her chest — but she wasn’t breathing. She was limp, cold as ice, and her eyes stayed tightly shut. Panic took hold as I shook her and screamed her name, but she didn’t move. Her dad rushed over and scooped her up, rocking her with desperate prayers for a sign of life. But her little body hung limp, her chest not rising. The look in his eyes told me what I feared most: our baby was gone.
I lost control — shaking, crying, screaming for God to help her. “Please, Jesus, make her breathe,” I repeated over and over, though I didn’t know if seconds or minutes passed — it felt like an eternity.
Then, something happened I still can’t explain. Slowly, I saw color return to her cheeks — from gray to a faint pink. Her arm twitched. I watched shallow breaths begin to rise and fall. Life was coming back.
We rushed her to Arkansas Children’s Hospital, where doctors ran every test imaginable: apnea monitoring, scans, x-rays, and careful checks on her feeding. But no cause was found — no heart problem, no respiratory failure. The diagnosis was B.R.U.E.: Brief Resolved Unexplained Event.
Even the doctors couldn’t explain how she survived. But I know the truth — SIDS is real, but God is greater.
I don’t usually share stories like this. It’s raw, terrifying, and deeply personal. But I had to speak this truth out loud: my baby stopped breathing, grew cold, and slipped away — and then she came back.
If you ever doubted the power of faith, of miracles, or of hope — I am here to testify: God is REAL. Through His grace alone, I am holding my daughter today.