Whenever she stared at the black and white photograph of her precious miracle, she smiled. Whenever she placed a hand upon the round curve of her belly, and she felt the quick, fluttering movements inside of her, she smiled. Whenever her husband gently rested his head upon her, and he laughed whenever he was lightly popped on the cheek, she smiled. Whenever it was one of those sleepless nights, when those tiny hands punched and those tiny feet kicked, she smiled. And whenever she thought of the day when she would hold her precious miracle in her arms and see her face for the very first time, she always, always smiled.