Miguel Badillo is the Accounting Manager at Pesquería. Today, he tells us about the most significant moment of his life: a story of love, patience, and faith in God.

Miguel was keeping calm despite the circumstances, as delivery was happening two months early and to make matters worse, this was the first time that he was driving around in Monterrey, Mexico, his new city…

However, things were about to get a little more complicated: Miguel got lost and his wife Cynthia, whose waters had broken a short time before, started to become agitated. It all went downhill from there. Disoriented and beset by labor pains. Miguel didn’t know how to use the GPS and he wasn't about to learn how to use it then. While he was driving around, his cell phone rang: it was the obstetrician from the clinic, flanked by his team, all ready and waiting and wanting to know where they were.

We got lost, Miguel answered, with Cynthia's cries of pain in the background. Then he reflected that if they were there, after everything they’d been through, it was for a reason. He thought about the road they had traveled, of the initial diagnosis seven years earlier, when the gynecologist told them that she wouldn’t be able to get pregnant. He also remembered how at that point, they’d given up.

"We’ve waited so many years for this moment," he told her, to distract her from the pain. “You were pregnant—do you remember the gynecologist at the consultation? ‘You’d better get ready, there’s two of them!’, he told us.” Miguel, while trying to find his bearings in Monterrey, kept talking to her: "Do you remember? We read up about twins, we looked at double strollers, and that's how it was, until that day when you felt a little under the weather and we went to see the doctor. And he, looking now at four dots on the screen, gave us the news: there were four of them, a pair of identical twin girls and a pair of boys.”

The doctor had been honest with them, explaining that a pregnancy like this was going to be very complicated. Anything could happen. All four of them were not going to make it, and if they did, it was highly unlikely that they would be born healthy. This was a high-risk pregnancy for the mother as well, so they had to make up their minds to reduce two babies so that the other two would have a chance to survive. But they took the only decision that they could: to carry on. “For seven years we’d been begging God for a child and He was giving us four. So, if someone had to take them away from us, it would be Him.” Although the odds were against them, they didn’t think twice.

That's what Miguel told his wife as he concentrated on trying to find his way, peering at possible landmarks in the pre-dawn gloom along the avenue. Suddenly he remembered that the hospital was at the foot of a hill. A few minutes later, with Cynthia's pain rising, they got their bearings and soon they were pulling up at the clinic. They’d achieved the easiest thing, to arrive. Now they had to face the hard part.

In the waiting room, exhausted and worried, Miguel couldn’t stop thinking about Cynthia and the babies. How many would make it? How healthy would they be? At times, fear was the only thing in his head, until the doctor appeared, looking even more tired than Miguel himself. He said, "I trust in God and I hope the bad news isn’t too bad." The doctor smiled reassuringly and told him that they were all much better than expected. "Your wife is fine and so are your four children." That was too much. It was a miracle. His legs gave way beneath him. They were going to have a lot of work, but they were also going to have a family, after all. Even despite the setbacks and all the problems.

Four years later, little Cynthia Marié, Carol Marián, Miguel Natán and Eliel Ogívert heard that their parents wanted to tell them about a new miracle. Cynthia was pregnant again, but this time, only with one child. The quadruplets looked at them smiling, but not surprised. And one said, “Do you remember that you asked God for children? Well, we also prayed for a little brother or sister.”