This is a description essay that I will be submitting this evening. Any comments or suggestions will be appreciated. Please excuse me for omitting true names.

When our children are born, don't we all believe we have created a miracle? Don't we all feel as though we've brought forth into this world the most enchanting thing we've ever seen? Every mother feels there couldn't possibly be a child as perfect or as beautiful as hers. I'm guilty of this thought as well. My first child, a daughter, was born on January 30, 1992 at 10:50 in the morning, and after forty-seven hours of labor, …

…and selfless for someone so young. Each time I look at her I'm dazzled by her child-like glamour. But today, my mind keeps wondering back to an earlier time - a time when I thought there couldn't possibly be a child comparable to her. Then thoughtfully, as I close the treasured book once more, I realized that in my unbiased search for such a child, my second daughter was born - but that's another story.