Three years ago today, my baby got the chance to start her life. At the crack of dawn, she was whisked away to a wonderful surgeon who used his skills to fix her faulty little heart.
In the 11-1/2 weeks leading up to that day, there was so much fear. So much worry, so much stress. So many decisions to make. So many bittersweet moments of loving this tiny girl, all the while knowing that there was a chance that her life would be cut short.
I remember taking photos of her intact white chest, knowing that it'd be the last time I'd see it unmarred by the surgeon's marks. I knew that it would be a scar that she would carry forever, if she were to make it out of this surgery.
These days her scar is faint and white. If you ask her about it, she'll gladly lift up her shirt to show you her scar. It's funny, because I have always felt like I should have a matching scar myself. I guess I do, although mine is invisible and more metaphorical. That process definitely marked me with my own permanent scars. But my scar is in my mind and in my memories.
Sometimes those days seem like just yesterday. It only takes a second to bring back that feeling of fear, and to feel the tears start to fill my eyes.
But, you know what? We aren't there anymore. Today I watch my big girl run around her Grammie's house, dancing and singing and reading books. She has no memory of those days of fear. And they are fading more and more into the background of our life together. We know how very much we have to look forward to with this wonderful little girl.
And so today, on the THIRD anniversary of Cora's open heart surgery, I am purely and simply grateful. Grateful for all the moments we've shared together since that day. Grateful for all the ways that she makes our lives better. Grateful that there are so many people who love her like we do.
We love you, Cora. Happy Heart Day!