Today I sat reading through some of my neighbors' blogs and a rush of emotion flowed out of me. I sat with warm tears running down my face because I felt the words I sat there reading.

For the first time in weeks my memories flowed back to a time when I went from super mom right down to almost lifeless.

I had a wonderful family but as most adoptive moms, I had doctors appointments, therapist visits for the kids, and school agendas all to balance. In the meantime we had decided to sell the house and move to a little home town in mid-Michigan.

The house was bigger and it was a lot more room for the kids to stretch out and have space. The town had a little ice cream shop right across from the town pool. The kids could walk to the park and up to town or ride their bikes.

So I spent my time packing and keeping the kids in school Monday through Friday. Drove up to the new house to paint and fix it up for moving in on the weekends. Drove back down on Sunday night and started all over again.

My husband was working for McDonalds. He hardly got time off. So I was full of energy and tried to do it all myself. He of course helped out a lot when he could.

I was up at the new house and I was fabulous 40. My husband was to arrive by five o'clock. We were going out to dinner and dancing to celebrate our 19th anniversary.

I got the kids fed. Got them all settled in for the night. Called the sitter and had her on hold for when my husband arrived. I tried to make myself beautiful and there I waited in dress and heels.

By 9 o'clock I told the sitter that we wouldn't be needing her and offered to pay her for leaving her evening open for us. By midnight I was anxious this was not like my husband not to call me. I knew something was wrong.

Finally he arrived. He was just fine. He had come home took a shower and fallen asleep. Woke up and drove the two hours up to spend the next few days with us as a family. He had forgotten it was our anniversary.

I was the good wife. Even though inside I wanted to scream and yell, I just let him go on and go to sleep. I got my gown on and decided to relax. I just could not shake this feeling I had. I thought it was just nerves from not knowing if he was ok and anger from him forgetting our anniversary. I had no idea it was a heart attack.

There I was the morning of our anniversary and I went into a full massive heart attack. I made it worse because I didn't go to the hospital for a few hours. Denying that this could be happening to me.

I ended up being airlifted to St. Mary's Hospital in Saginaw, Michigan. They rushed me in for surgery to put stints in and see if they could repair the damage. I was comatose for three days.

All the stress from the kids and the moving and the remodeling had taken it's toll on my marriage and on my health.

It wasn't until much later when I was recovering at home and my daughter April, who usually spent most of her time getting into mischief, became my little nurse.

In two years' time I had a massive heart attack, followed by a quadrupple bypass. I had a stroke during the bypass and had a blood clot go to the center of my brain and it rendered me blind. I stepped on some toy and it broke and I had plastic in my foot and almost lost my foot... all of which time I was a brittle diabetic.

I was put on IV and sent home to recover. That is when April just amazed me. She took care of me hand and foot. So did my husband. April learned to do the IVs and would help me every day. She would encourage me and say things to me that let me know how much she loved me.

Something that I had never noticed before happened in silence. She and I had bonded. We had become Mother and Daughter in the most precious way. Her love and kindness went far beyond normal. She encouraged me and let me know all the hours I had spent being her mom had made a great impact. Now she was spending her hours being my daughter and doing a fine job of it.

While recovering I had a lot of time to think about my life and my kids and my marriage. I also thought of the therapist that told me to give up on April - that she could not be helped. I was living in the presence of proving her wrong. April had been helped. Yes, she still had issues and yes she still got into a lot of mischief. But she was the most precious little daughter when I needed her the most.

That built a lot of trust between me and April, which is still there today. She is trying so hard to grow up and having a rough time facing the guidelines that are set for the so called normal child her age.

But in our most difficult moments I remember her little voice saying "Can I help you Mommy?" And my anger fades and my worry builds. I do not want to lose my daughter. She is far too precious a person to give up now. I could not love her more if she had been born of my body. She was most certainly born of my heart.