In 2007, I thought I had it all. A nice apartment, decent job, a brand new car. I met a guy that I thought was perfect (that will be another story), and we soon decided to have a child. I got pregnant quickly and things were great. When I fist heard the baby's heartbeat I was in love. It was a love I had never experienced and it was deep.

Soon after that I went in for a sonogram. Things were going great, we saw his cute little head, his teeny tiny limbs, and saw that it was a boy.

Suddenly the lady doing the sonogram went silent and gave a look that made me a little uneasy. She got up and said that she was going to show the images to the doctor and that it was normal. My boyfriend and I looked at each other and knew something was wrong, the feeling in the room was just not right.

She came back after about twenty minutes smiled, printed out the images of my baby boy, and sent us on our way. After we got home my boyfriend had to run somewhere and I was home alone, happy as could be when my phone rang. I picked it up and it was my midwife. She told me that my baby had something called hypo-plastic left heart syndrome. She did not want to tell me much about it and told me I would have to meet with a specialist.

The next morning I called to set up an appointment with the specialist but was told he would not available for two weeks.

I waited two weeks crying nearly daily because the only info I could find was on the internet and it did not look good.

I was finally able to meet with the doctor, he was quiet and did not offer much information. He said the condition was rare and he did not know much about it.

I was sent to another doctor, who showed me pictures of other kids with the condition that lead relatively normal lives.

During my research I found that the oldest kid with HLHS was in his early twenties, at that time treatment for the condition was pretty new.

I was told that my baby’s case was pretty mild, and that he would have a series of operations, come home, and live a normal life.

I had to go to Seattle to have him so that he could get the necessary operation, because no place in Alaska treated it.

I got to Seattle and met with a nice young doctor. Soon it was time to give birth. My labor was induced on June 05 2007.

The moment my son was born is the most memorable and happiest things I can ever remember. He opened his big old bird eyes, turned his head looked at me, and blinked. Oh my gosh, he was PERFECT. I reached out to grab him, but to my surprise he was rushed away by a team of doctors.

I kept asking to see him and it was a few hours before I finally did. The wheeled him into my room, he was in some sort of contraption, and had wires and tubes everywhere. I got to hold him for a couple of minutes and snap a couple of pictures. Then they told me he had to be transported to Seattle Children’s hospital immediately. So he went. I was not allowed to leave the hospital and was told that if I did I would have to pay the whole entire bill myself.

A couple days went by and I finally got to leave and I went straight to see my baby. My boyfriend did not come to Seattle because we were told our baby would have an operation, come home, and be a normal boy.

Soon it was time. During his operation I was given a little room with a phone in it for updates. As I slept I thought I heard the phone ring, I told someone to answer it (I was alone). Then thought that I heard someone whisper to me that I was closer. I jumped up out of bed and picked up the phone and the lady told me that the operation went well and I could see him in a few hours.

When I saw him I was devastated. His chest had a big hole in it that was held open with a bar of some sort and was covered with a gore-tex patch.