Heartiversary of Miracles

It was two years ago, leading up to this day, that we were sat down by Tehilla's cardiac team. Her pulmonary arteries were not growing, she was in heart failure, and we had run out of time. She had already been through 2 open heart surgeries and 2 heart catheters. She was overdue for her Glenn surgery by 8 months. But we had run out of time.

It was two years ago, that we were explained that while the chances of success were very low, the only option was to try to do the Glenn surgery while putting a patch on Tehilla's pulmonary arteries. And by the chances of success, what I am actually saying was her chance of survival. We were explained as gently and as sensitively as possible, that Tehilla would not survive the surgery.

It was two years ago, that our sweet doctor sat us down in his office and tried to prepare us for Tehilla's death. He tried in the best way that he could to make sure that we were completely aware of what was more than likely going to happen on December 4, 2014.

It was two years ago, that our loving blog family rallied around us. We begged and pleaded for a miracle. We asked for prayers and Psalms, acts of kindness and baking of challah bread. We asked for a miracle.

It was two years ago, that we dressed in red and drove our precious daughter to the hospital with our fear palpable. We couldn't speak and we were conscious of the effort it took for us to just breath. We smiled for our baby girl and kissed her goodbye. She was taken into surgery and all of our hopes and prayers followed her into that operating room.

We sat quietly for hours, unable to speak, unable to eat, making pleas with G-d. You all sent us pictures of your red clothing and your beautiful challah. Pictures came in from around the world.

Then the updates started coming from the operating room. "Mrs. Balofsky, this is the surgical nurse from the operating room. The surgery has begun and she is stable."

"Mrs. Balofsky, this is the surgical nurse from the operating room. The surgery is progressing and she is stable."

"Mrs. Balofsky, this is the surgical nurse from the operating room. The surgery is progressing and she is stable."

"Mrs. Balofsky, this is the surgical nurse from the operating room. The surgery is progressing and she is stable."

"Mrs. Balofsky, this is the surgical nurse from the operating room. The surgery is completed, she is stable and they are closing up."

"Mrs. Balofsky, this is the surgical nurse from the operating room. They have closed her up and will be bringing her to the PICU. Everything was okay."

We paced the hallways, waiting for the slightest glimpse of our child alive. Unable to believe that we would in fact be seeing her alive. They brought her up through the elevator, and we saw her. Puffy and full of wires with machines beeping. The machines beeping- proving she was alive. Their steady beep is what I hear in my head when I envision her little face being wheeled into the PICU. It took every ounce of control to not jump on that gurney and start kissing those cheeks and stroking those thin locks of blonde hair.

It was two years ago, that our surgeon came out of the PICU, after he supervised Tehilla being adjusted into her room, hooked up and stable, and spoke to us candidly. "She did it. The surgery was a success. There were no problems and things went well."

We had to wait some time for them to fully stabilize her before we were allowed into the room. The restraint to not burst in was excruciating.

Blog family, every moment of Tehilla's life is a miracle. That little blonde haired, blue eyed girl with half a heart is a miracle. But this was the moment that medicine couldn't provide us with hope. This was the day that Tehilla survived the unthinkable. I will never forget the looks on the faces of the entire cardiac team, when they saw her up and about. It was a look of pure awe.

While heariversaries are usually celebrated by the date of the most recent heart surgery, and as you know, that was only this past July- this is our heartiversary of miracles.Thank you, blog family, for always being there for us, throughout the good, the bad, the impossible and the miraculous. Today, I say Psalms 100- Mizmore L'todah- A Psalm of thanksgiving.