Sedro-Woolley is a small town north of Seattle. It is located near the foot of Mount Baker, a picturesque snowcapped peak that sits in the midst of the North Cascade Mountains. Originally a logging town, in recent years it has become a bedroom community for the larger cities to its west and south. It is a nice-looking place, working hard to keep its small-town feel; its one main downtown street is lined with black cast-iron streetlamps. I practice chiropractic here. My office faces Ferry Street, a tree-lined avenue with Victorian houses for several blocks. In fourteen years of practice I have come to love this town and its people. I also have experienced many miracles.

Sarah was one such "miracle" patient. She was born in a hospital in Spokane, Washington, and her birth was complex and troublesome. After a long, difficult labor, as the baby's head began to appear it was discovered that the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck-not once but three times. Luckily, the attending doctor was both skilled and inventive. Realizing the danger of the situation, he pushed Sarah back up the birth canal before the cord strangled her. Then he reached inside, cut the umbilical cord free from her neck, and delivered the child. After the birth, however, there was an unexpected problem: Sarah would stop breathing every time her mother attempted to nurse her. She would not start breathing again until she was artificially resuscitated. This was occurring fifteen to twenty times per day, and doctors couldn't figure out what was causing it. The hospital told Sarah's parents, Tom and Rachel, that they couldn't take their daughter home because her chances for survival without medical intervention seemed doubtful. The baby was also restless and irritable, and never slept more than one or two hours at a time. Six weeks after her birth, Sarah was still confined to the hospital, and her parents were growing desperate.

Rachel's parents, Dave and Eileen, live in Sedro-Woolley. For years they have used chiropractic as part of their family's regular health maintenance. I had taken care of Rachel as she was growing up, but because she had married and moved to the other side of the state, I had not seen her for at least a year. One day Dave came in to see me and told me the story of Sarah and her problem. "I just know there's something you can do for her, Dr. Lenarz," Dave said, his usual confidence in chiropractic augmented by the pride and worry of a new grandfather. As a father myself, I could only imagine the agonizing experience Rachel and her husband were going through.

"I don't know if I can help your granddaughter," I told Dave gently. "But if the birth trauma caused injury to the upper neck, misalignment of bones in this area could be affecting Sarah's ability to breathe."

"Would you go to Spokane to examine her?" Dave asked eagerly. "The hospital won't release her, so you'll have to do it there. It's a short flight, and I'll buy your ticket." I shook my head. "I doubt the hospital would allow a chiropractor to examine one of their patients," I said. "But I can try. I've gone into nursing homes and hospitals to give adjustments to patients who request it, and I'm willing to do so in this case."

Dave left my office, promising to get back to me with more information. Fortunately, the airplane ride and visit to the hospital were not needed. Two weeks after my conversation with Dave, Rachel and Tom were allowed to take their daughter home for a trial period. The hospital staff attached Sarah to a portable monitor that informed her parents if she stopped breathing, and trained them to resuscitate the child. Instead of going home, however, Rachel, Tom, and Sarah came straight to Sedro-Woolley.

They entered my office late Friday afternoon after a busy day. All the other patients had gone, and my staff was preparing to close up for the night. Sarah nestled in Rachel's arms, but the tranquil picture of mother and child was marred by a network of wires running from somewhere beneath her blanket to a briefcase-sized monitor with lights, buttons, and knobs that Dad was carrying on his shoulder. Sarah was a beautiful little angel-but she also appeared distressed and uncomfortable, with a furrowed brow. My heart began to beat quickly, and I prayed that I could help this child and this family.

I asked Rachel to put her daughter down on the table for a moment. Gently I performed my normal chiropractic pediatric exam on Sarah, running my fingers along the sides of her tiny neck, checking her range of motion by turning her head slowly from side to side. I wanted to determine if there was any misalignment of a spinal bone in the upper neck, which might be causing interference to the nervous system. We took low-dose X rays, and they confirmed my suspicions: There was a large misalignment of Sarah's top neck bone (the atlas), most likely caused by her traumatic birth. The good news was, I knew I could help. When I work with babies, I use a special device, a kind of portable "table" that I wear around my neck. It allows me to make the fine, very small adjustments babies usually require. As Rachel held Sarah, I stood next to them and placed Sarah's head against the device. Her head was just about at the level of my heart; one of her ears pointed toward my chest. I brought my right hand around to the other side of Sarah's neck (the side facing away from my chest), and with my middle finger I felt for the atlas, the bone I wanted to adjust. There it was-the misplaced bone that was choking off this child's life force. I put my left middle finger on top of the right, and I gave the bone a quick, gentle pull toward my chest. That was it: a movement of no more than a quarter of an inch, and the bone itself probably moved half that. While the adjustment was minuscule, the transformation in Sarah was enormous. Within seconds Sarah's brow unfurled. The tension in her little face melted away, and she became uncommonly calm. Rachel took her daughter into another room to nurse her-and for the first time in her short and difficult life, Sarah ate without any interference to her breathing.

From that point on, Sarah's development was completely normal. I saw her once more, three months later, for a follow-up adjustment, and then sent her and her parents on their way. A transformation like Sarah's is no small thing, and even though I have been graced to see many lives transformed through chiropractic, I always experience feelings of awe and gratitude when I witness these changes.