Yesterday my daughter went to the Ogden Utah temple, of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, to do baptisms. This was her first time being able to do so. My daughter is London`addelyne and she is a beautiful young woman, she looks a lot like her mother who is also striking.
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I posted this picture on Facebook which garnered a response from a friend and former coworker Chree, her comment triggered a memory of my little girl in a really big pickle.
We lived in West Valley City, Utah a suburb of Salt Lake City. We had a modest ranch style home in the neighborhood where my wife and I both grew up, in fact, we bought the house right behind the house I grew up in. We tried to have children for a few years and struggled, but after a while Trin became pregnant. We were so excited to be parents and terrified at the same time, what a huge responsibility. A couple months into the pregnancy we lost that child to a spontaneous miscarriage, a devastating blow, to say the least, I will spare you all the drama that went along with that involving, her geriatric heartless OBGYN.
After some time to heal our hearts, and prepare to try again for another pregnancy my father passed away, Ken Pentico was an amazing dad, grandpa and great-grandpa, his passing hurt as well, obviously, but not as much as you might think. Our dad had been sick for a real long time, he had built a good life of eternal riches, worked heard and passed on amazing traits of selflessness, love, devotion, hard work and faith, and we knew that he was on to bigger and better things.
About 6 weeks after my father's passing we learned that Trin was again prego, and with that came the excitement and terror. We kept her pregnancy quiet as long as possible, as to avoid the awkward "How is the baby coming along" comments we endured for weeks after the first miscarriage. We had made it a few months and our new OBGYN, who was awesome and came highly recommended, had told us that things were moving along nicely and there should be no reason that this child should not make it full term, so we made our announcement, she would be due in December of 2002.
Fast forward to about 18 months later London was about 8 -9 months old and with my working early and long hours on the ambulance sleep was at a premium, and as some parents do, not recommended, we had London sleep with us as to get more sleep or at least a greater quality of sleep. I remember the night like it was yesterday, our bedroom was situated in the front of the home and our bedroom window faced to the south, I liked to leave the curtains open so I could see the moon and stars.
Trin and I were sound asleep and London in the next room began to fuss, so I went into her room and brought her to bed with us. She immediately went back to sleep, as did I. I do not know how long we were asleep when I woke up to Trin, my wife, holding a limp little girl in her arms asking me to please help, I could see very clearly, because of the moonlight shining through my bedroom window, that this was not my daughter and that this child was much older than my daughter. I was confused as to what was going on, and then in a voice -- a child's voice, I heard the words "Help me, daddy." Like lightning to my heart, I shot up out of bed and it was then I realized that I had been dreaming. With a short-lived sigh of relief, I looked over at my wife, who was sound asleep, and then my daughter. I immediately realized her lifeless body with nearly black face, lying there next to my wife with bedding around her neck. She was not breathing, and she was very cyanotic. I was a trained emergency medical professional and this caught me way off guard. With a certain level of anxiety I picked up my daughter, all the while calling Trin "TRIN--TRIN WAKE UP!" I yelled, I unraveled the sheet that was strangling her and as I removed the sheet she took a great big breath and started Crying. Trin by this time had shot up out of bed and turned on the light. I could see London's very pale body with blue face, I was in shock over what had just transpired, London began to breathe normally and had calmed down, quite unlike her parents, then went right back to sleep, needless to say Trin and I did not fare so well--for a while.
Later, as London grew older I recognize the little girl my wife was holding in my dream as my daughter about 3 years old and the voice that called out to me as hers from about the same age.
Changes were made and nothing like that ever happened again. I know that that night God truly spoke to me and because I listened she lives. I often receive answers to my prayers while I sleep, while I am free from the distractions of the world. I am grateful to a loving father in heaven that has blessed me with an amazing gift of life and an amazing family.
London has grown into such a beautiful young woman, and Trin and I are so proud of her and her choices she has made to follow Christ and perform his labors here on earth for the salvation of others.
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