It is hard to know where to start sharing memories of my firstborn, my daughter and my third-best-friend... the first being Jesus Christ our savior and the second being my husband, Dan. I think the hardest part is finding the right words to vividly sketch in your mind, the breadth and depth of who Rebecca Danielle Dennison was both to us as her parents and to everyone who knew her.

Rebecca started out as Little Bun in the Oven. From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I was almost sure she was a girl. A boy would have been fine with me as well, but I was so sure of myself that I bought oodles of girl clothes... and the 20 week ultrasound? Now that was just formality.

Along about then, Rebecca acquired a new nickname: Thumper. Those were the days I was not so sure pregnancy was such a fun idea! I mean, first morning sickness and now this?! I felt like a punching bag because I was just that! Rebecca had two hobbies in the womb that carried over until after she was born: cuddling and kicking. When I carried her, she cuddled by settling her head right in my ribs one day, and then the next day she would turn and practice her kickboxing. She truly had a mind of her own! The only thing that would make her behave was choir practice on Wednesday nights and choir on Sunday mornings. She would go from 100 miles and hour to nothing as soon as I started singing.

I should mention at this point that Rebecca and her daddy have always had this mental connection that I just did not understand, hard as I tried. Finally I just gave up. Anyway, first it began as a game of tag. Dan would have his hand on my belly and then poke her. When she was little, she'd just kind of move out of the way and try to hide, but as she got bigger, she started kicking back... hard. This mama in the middle finally had to tell them that just before bedtime was not the time to play this game because Dan could just turn over and go to sleep, which would make little miss “Kickie-Face” upset that her daddy was all done playing and “Kickie-Face” would spend the next hour running all over my belly trying to find him and make him play some more. This nightly routine continued every night long after she was born with the minor, but very important exception thst Kickie-Face would give up and become Sleepy-Face long before Daddy was done harrasing her.

Rebecca was given the name Princess very shortly after she was born. Dan would call her “Daddy's Little Princess” and the name just kind of stuck... from her birth day on, the little Princess ruled the roost. She was adored by the Neonatal ICU staff, especially since she was the only baby girl for awhile and because she looked very filipino back then. Almost every day, a nurse-auntie would ask me, “how much filipino does the baby have?”

We'd answer, “one-eighth... my mom's mom is from the Philipines.”

“Wow!” they'd say, “she looks just like a filipino baby!” Daddy's little princess made sure that everyone knew she loved them, for one day she'd look like me, the next she's look like her dad and grandpa, the next day we'd say “hmmm... I see some of her aunt Kristina and uncle Weston.” Yes, even at that very young age, my little politician knew what it took to win the popularity contest! Of course, the cute hats that my mom made her did not hurt anything either... nurses, residents and hospital staff would drop by every day to see Rebecca's outfit of the day. Everyone had an opinion about which was their favorite, but the truth is, my little princess was beautiful no matter what she wore, even if it was nothing but her diaper. Of course I am pretty biased, but I was and am convinced, that my little Becca Bun was the most beautiful baby to have ever been born.

We brought Princess Rebecca home on her sixth “week-day.” We finally got discharged from the hospital at around 3, and we still had to move out of the McDonald House, so we did not get on the road until 5... right in the middle of traffic in the heart of Los Angeles. Rebecca was a Sad Face. She did not like moving, she did not like her car seat, she did not like sitting in her wet diaper, and she did not like the fact that mama was just sitting next to her doing nothing about it all. Her fit continued long after we arrived home.

“Oh no,” I thought, “we're going to be up all night long!” So you can imagine my shock the next morning when I awoke with a start at 6am. I looked over in the crib and Rebecca was just laying there, sleepily inspecting the ceiling above her crib. Had my baby truly slept through the night her first night home? Maybe it was just a fluke! But no, Rebecca slept through the night every night for the next two weeks. Then she would take all of her naps and just hang out with me during the day and with her daddy before and after dinner. The only thing she did not do was gain weight, but that was not really her fault, now was it? No amount of talking to her about how much nicer it would be to not have this feeding tube through her nose would make her eat enough to give her enough calories to gain weight. Finally, people started talking about putting a feeding tube in her stomach. I fought the idea soooo hard, but finally Rebecca's pediatrician, Dr. Gereb, and her cardiologist, Dr. Ludwick, “ganged up on me” and I caved in. By the way, once she got it, I LOVED it! It was sooooo much easier to feed her and she could suck soooo much easier.

After her cardiac arrest in April, she ended up with a tracheostomy because her airway was obstructed by swollen tissue from so many intubations. No wonder she wasn't gaining weight! She was using all her energy just trying to breathe. As soon as she got her airway short cut, Miss Skinny, became known as Princess Chubby Cheeks. Suddenly, she broke eight pounds and never looked back! I began looking forward to going to Dr. Gereb's office and seeing how much Rebecca had gained since the last visit. It was even more fun to say, “oh, well, she only gained two ounces since our last visit.... but she's plenty big, so as long as she keeps gaining we should be fine.”

Rebecca managed to stay out of the hospital for all of June and most of July. The trach tube was definitely an annoyance, but we had fun none-the-less. Rebecca could care less about that stupid tube, or the fact that she was mostly prisoner to that humidifier hose. As long as mommy and daddy loved her, she was happy. Which brings me to what still amazes us: Rebecca never hated us for all the stuff we had to let the hospital staff do to her. I mean, she did not enjoy being poked and prodded, but she never blamed us for letting them hurt her or for leaving her every night. She would cry and fuss, but as soon as Mama or Daddy picked her up, all was well again. People were amazed at how well she cooperted... most of the time. But that was our Becks... she loved and trusted unconditionally and without limit.

Miss Becks became the doll of the peds floor at Kaiser Sunset between July and October. Part of it was her cute clothes, courtesy of doting grandparents and aunties, but it was also her incredible personality. She knew exactly how to win friends and influence people. She had what I call her three levels of aknowlegement, or lack thereof.

The first was reserved for most of the lab techs and anyone else who was silly enough to wear a white coat near her. She would start pouting, ala Rebecca-style. And boy she could do it well. She could really make people feel like dirt for daring to enter her domain with a needle, a stethlascope or some other annoyance. Of course, we all thought it was exceedingly cute, especially when her protests cause these huge, strapping men to beg the princess' forgiveness! The second level of aknowlegement was the head-to-toe assessment out of the corner of her eye and then the closing of her eyes. It was like she was saying, “okay, you've come, you've been inspected, I'm not sure I like you, but I'll let you stay as long as you don't mind being ignored. The final and best level of aknowlegement was the “I'm so eating out of your hand.” She would just look at the person and let them hold her, as long as mama and daddy wasn't too far away that is.
Rebecca understood something it takes some people years to learn... the art of giving people just enough reason to come back for more. It was beyond me why she'd love some people and hate the others, but now I think it's because she loved the attention. And she knew that people talk... the people who made the second level of aknowlegement would spend so much time by her bed, talking to her and trying to get her to say hello, while those who were on the first level would stand by and say “I don't understand what's so hard. She just loves everyone.”

Our little Becks had the privilege of being used by God for a mighty work. She influenced more people in her eight months and three days than most people do in an average lifetime. God allowed our daughter to suffer through so much so that others may see the light of Him. People marveled at the power of God as He preserved her life time and again. It started with the surgery I had at 15 weeks to remove a mass on my ovary, she survived the entire pregnancy when most babies with her heart condition die in utero, she roared through a long and difficult delivery, flew through her many surgeries, survived a complete respiratory cardiac arrest, and passed with flying colors the many days and weeks in the hospital battling everything from pnemonia to liver shock. Our little girl was a strong one because God had his hand on her, preserving her life and healing her. She died last Tuesday night because God had called her home and there was nothing that we as earthly beings could do about it. Her work on earth was done.

So while my mama's heart aches to have my precious baby back, I thank God for his sovereignty in giving us Rebecca Danielle for 18 months... 40 weeks of pregnancy and then eight months and three days in our arms. God used Rebecca to act as iron sharpening iron on the lives of those around her. She was an ambassador He used to teach us about the power of the prayer, the peace the surpasses all understanding and about unconditional love. Romans says “for all things work together for the good of those who love them and are called according to His plan.” So now as I close this chapter on my life, I weep because Rebecca is no longer here in my arms, but I rejoice that she is now safe in the arms of Jesus, being comforted better than I ever could. If she could, I'm sure she would say, “okay Mama, it's over now. All done crying.” I know I will see her again, and the next time I do, she will be whole and she will say, “Hi Mama, please come say hello to Jesus.”

Good bye my little Becks. I love you.