At 38 weeks my labor began swiftly. I remember being angry because I had 2 more weeks to go- this is a situation where I wouldn’t have cared if I was 42 weeks pregnant.  Every moment counted and I did not want it to be done- not yet!

She was born 4 hours after my labor began on July 27th- a perfect 7 pound 2 ounce baby. She was then rushed away so that her diagnosis could be confirmed. During the time she was away the nurses had me sign a DNR-which stands for do not resuscitate. Up until that point we were planning on doing hospice care. Meaning we were going to spend what time we had with her until her heart naturally gave out. That could of meant minutes or days. Signing that document was one of the most difficult moments of my life.

Around the time they brought her back to us, a new cardiologist came in to speak with us. She mentioned that we did have an option of surgery- it was very risky but the hospital had a surgeon who could perform the procedure. I looked at my baby and just wasn’t ready to let go- we opted for the surgery. They took her away from us again. This time to the N.I.C.U or Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.

The Norwood procedure is a procedure that makes it possible for the right ventricle of the heart to function for both the underdeveloped left ventricle and the right- as you can imagine- it’s one of the most complicated heart surgeries there is- and my 2 day old has it done. There was a 50% survival of surgery and we were told if she made it through- the next major battle was to survive the 48 hours following. 

Well Azaria was a fighter and she made it through. She was in the hospital for 2 weeks and then we were able to bring her home. We brought her home.

Remember we were not planning to bring a baby home- friends donated money to her funeral fund not a baby shower. So we spent the money we had for her funeral and happily went and bought baby supplies- that was a fun day.

Even though she had the procedure and was able to come home- we couldn’t rest too easy- that was only the first step-there would be 2 other procedures over the next 2 years to complete the process and still the oldest living survivor at the time was an 18 year old- there was no known adults who survived living with only half a heart yet.

We enjoyed being new parents. Then the bumps in the road came.

Azaria’s surgery site became infected and she was re-admitted. She was critically ill and we were back in the PICU- pediatric intensive care unit. She had good moments and bad moments- there were times during that stay that we thought we were going to lose her. 

But she made through once again. We were able to bring her home once again.