My "angel story" began when my oldest son, Chase, was born. The first six days were all that I had ever imagined motherhood to be: bonding, sleepless nights, learning how to nurse and adapting to taking care of our precious little baby boy.

On the seventh day, I woke up feeling very ill. It felt similar to the flu. Later, while I was nursing, I noticed a spot on my skin that concerned me. Within hours the spot became very large and began to spread. We ended up going to the hospital that evening but I just knew I would be home in no time with Chase.

Upon hearing the symptoms and seeing the infection, the doctors soon realized I had a rare strain of staph. They started me on antibiotics but the staph was so severe they had to get medicine from the Centers for Disease Control, because nothing else was working.

With this drug, and all of the other medicine that I was taking while in the hospital, I really don’t remember much about that week. It is just a blur. However, one of the worse side effects of the medication was it inhibited my ability to nurse; one of the most fulfilling parts of motherhood for me.

A few days into my hospital stay, a loved one came to visit and brought an angel for me to keep by my bedside. When looking back on my stay, among all the fog of the doctors and medication, I remember being constantly aware of the angel in my room. Often I would look at it on my bedside and it would give me hope, encouragement and peace.

To me, that was a symbol that God was watching over me and that everything was going to be okay.

Although this experience did not turn out as I had hoped, I left the hospital feeling blessed and thankful to be alive.