The utter wonder of a newborn baby — tiny having to be born by C-section a month early, arriving before his little lungs knew how to function and still not out of the woods — that was only one frightening event in our family this week.

Along with this was the mother who was fighting for her life and the dad who was running back and forth from his wife’s hospital room to his precious new son in intensive care.

Everybody in the family except myself rushed to the hospital to do whatever possible to keep everyone calm and supported, and all I could do was sit by the phone, wait and pray.

The very idea that either the mother or the baby might not make it seemed incomprehensible to me.

I tried to write, but my tears kept plopping on the inked words and smearing the page.

Now, most females have babies. It is painful, traumatic, beautiful and life-changing.

But all the trauma fades and is substituted with the kind of love and complete devotion you never felt before.

But last Tuesday, something went terribly wrong for this young couple. As I write this, it is three days later, and neither was quite safe yet and I am, as always now, sitting in my recliner and thinking.

I went to my forever place of peace early on.

Now I believe things will be filled with courage and love. I see that, no matter what ever else happens, this wee little guy has opened his eyes and looked squarely at his daddy. This is his first gift of joy.

It looks like the worst is over.

One day next week the three will hopefully go home, him on his oxygen machine making it possible for his lungs to function, and for her, lots of family help.

All the frightful days have settled into a thankful life ahead. As I sit here, a big smile spreads over my heart.

When I closed my eyes, suddenly a funny memory crept into my head.

It, too, is about the miracle of birth.

Way back when I lived in Kentucky and my daughter Phoebe lived in Colorado, she would call me every day as she drove to work.

Usually we talked about girl stuff. But, one day, the call got more interesting.

As we talked, I kept hearing this sort of mewing, sniffling sound.

Her answer when I asked what the noise was, was, “Oh it’s Missy in labor so I’m taking her to my office.”

Missy was their female Pug, and would need help to break the fetal sack.

Amazed, I asked Phoebe what she would do if Missy started delivering babies right in the car.

She calmly assured me she would pull over and deliver them.

“Oh mom, it looks like here we go!”

Little Missy suddenly plopped to her side and started pushing out a little Pug puppy.

Then I heard Phoebe say, “Oh Missy, girl!”

The frazzled little Missy started turning in tight circles inside the big carrier sitting on the SUV passenger seat.

Then I heard her snort and pant and breath hard I even heard Missy screech to Phoebe, “For crying out loud, pull over, pull over now!”

I heard the SUV pull to a stop while Phoebe was purring a reassurance to poor little Missy.

It was during that time we were disconnected.

My imagination took over. We were no longer connected, but I could imagine all kinds of things happening that morning on a Colorado backroad.

It was 10 p.m. before I heard again. The story Phoebe told me made me laugh so hard.

Apparently, when she pulled over, Missy got so frazzled she jumped right out over the top of the carrier and started racing around the SUV with Phoebe in hot pursuit.

That poor dog got so beside herself she completely forgot about birthing, and she sucked that pug baby right back in.

When they got to her office, she took Missy and all the birth stuff inside.

How? I don’t know, but while keeping a watchful eye, she continued to see her clients for six hours.

Then back up the mountain to her home, unloaded Missy and all the birthing stuff and Phoebe and Missy fell into a much-needed sleep.

An hour later, Phoebe’s daughter Kelsey came to her mother’s room to announce Missy had a baby. They went to the dog nursery and delivered three more tiny beige babies.

They removed the sack, cleaning the babies and helping poor tired but proud Missy be a momma.

End of story.

It fascinates me life goes on. Dogs and cats have litters, mares have foals, humans have infant babies, and every species keeps the circle going.

Life winds down the same way and new life completes it unbroken.

In some way this reminds me of the ocean and how the tide comes in and goes out regardless of whatever else is going on in one’s life.

It’s a wondrous process, one that gives me a sense of peace that all is well.

The view from the mountain is wondrous.

Jean Brody is a passionate animal lover and mother. She previously lived in Winchester, but now resides in Littleton, Colorado. Her column has appeared in the Sun for more than 25 years.