As I entered the only home she has ever known, I found her curled up snugly in Mom’s arms, erroneous wires snaking out of her blanket and finding their way to their various monitors. Dad was busying himself on the laptop right next to the recliner before getting up to introduce himself. The lights were dim, the room quiet.
Even though it wasn’t necessary, I found myself whispering. Whispering pleasantries. Whispering adorations over how perfect Jayden is. And quietly asking her if she was ready for her big modeling entree.
As I began shooting, they shared their story. Married for nine years, and having tried for a few years to get pregnant, they finally got a positive result. From the day Jenn found out, she called her growing child their miracle baby. It didn’t take long to decide on a name. One that would hold so much more meaning than they ever anticipated. Jayden, meaning “Jehovah has heard.” He heard their prayers for a child of their own. And He would hear their prayers, and the prayers of countless others, as Jayden’s birthday approached.
About a month before her due date, Jayden’s parents went in for an ultrasound. It was at that appointment that they discovered Jayden had a form of dwarfism. Her arms and legs were growing much too slow, falling 8 weeks behind in measurement. Even more heartbreaking was the fact that her chest cavity was also much too small. There was a possibility that her lungs had not fully formed and she would be unable to sustain life on her own. The original diagnosis? Less than 1% chance of survival.
From that appointment, Chris and Jenn traveled two and a half hours west to Eugene to meet with a specialist. The initial consultation again indicated that Jayden had the type of dwarfism that develops no lung tissue. As a result, she would be unable to survive after birth. However, after doing some digging and looking more closely at the ultrasound of her tiny little body, the doctor was able to find some lung tissue.
And there was prayer.
On June 16th, Jenn was induced. And later, she would have a c-section. With 45 friends and family in the waiting room, hundreds of others praying from remote locations, and a number of doctors surrounding her, the moment came. And everyone held their collective breaths. Waiting for the cry.
Waiting for the miracle.
And it came. And the tears came. Not only streaming down the face of Chris and Jenn, but on the doctors bringing her into the world. Her lungs were still small, needing a push to deliver enough oxygen to her body, and the first few hours were questionable. But she was breathing. And that, in itself, was a miracle.
I met her when she was two weeks old, already free of any oxygen assistance whatsoever, and continually showered with kisses from her parents. Tucked into her crib was a small stuffed bunny that has been with her since her birth. Jenn held it throughout her entire labor and when it came time for Jayden to go to the NICU, it went with her, carrying her mother’s scent. An act of faith from a mother filled with hope.
The initial prognosis was that Jayden would be in the NICU for at least twelve weeks. She went home in four. And it’s no surprise why. There have been, and continue to be, over 2,000 people praying for her - the proof is on her the Facebook page dedicated to that very thing.
As I drove home from the shoot, I cried. Not for sorrow, but for joy. Joy at the stories I get to hear. The lives I get to document. And the miracles I get to witness. God is so good. I’ll leave you with a quote from a friend of Chris and Jenn’s:
“I have always pictures angels to be 8 feet tall and have 10 foot wing spans. Today I met an angel named Jayden. She was only 5lbs, 15 inches tall, and dressed in pink with a wing span that wraps around my heart a million times.” Phil Price.
For more information on the Pictures of Hope Foundation, visit their website at www.picturesofhopefoundation.org.
