When I look at you, I see wide eyes full of wonder.

As a newborn, long before you could talk, your eyes spoke volumes. I’ll never forget how you looked, tiny face peeking out from a swaddled bundle, wide eyes staring up at me. I was terrified, feeling so inadequate to care for you and so uncertain of the journey ahead.

We’ve both grown since then, each in our own ways, but your wide eyes still draw me in. I love the way you view the world with curiosity and enthusiasm. You remind me to find and appreciate the wonder in the every day little things.

When I look at you, I see scars that speak to courage.

Your journey has been far from easy and you bear the scars to prove it. You wear them like a badge of honor, evidence of all you’ve endured and a testament to your resilience every step of the way.

As I’ve walked this road alongside you, I am in awe of your strength and bravery. Not only during those days in the hospital, but far beyond in the way you live with such exuberance and joy. You’ve never let challenges stand in the way of your feisty independence and contagious happiness. You live courageously and inspire me to do the same.

When I look at you, I see God’s hand writing an incredible story.

I saw God work a miracle in your tiny body as an unborn child who the doctors said would not live. Your cries as you entered the world echoed as a mighty testimony to His healing. And I’ve seen Him work through the hands and knowledge of doctors and surgeons as they mend your heart in ways we had been told would be impossible.

He has provided over and over and His presence is a comfort and strength beyond anything we could ever have on our own. He has been there when your daddy and I cried in the waiting room, afraid we were going to lose you and He has been there in the joyful celebrations when you and your sister wrap each other in a giant hug after coming home. I don’t know what lies ahead for you, but I know He will be there always.

Yours is a story of miracles, answered prayers, God’s strength in our weakness, and His peace in the midst of trials. When I look at you I see a story that brings Him glory and for that I am so thankful.

Hope is scheduled for heart surgery on August 12th at Boston Children’s Hospital. A recent trip to Boston revealed good news that her left ventricle, which was severely hypoplastic (meaning small) at birth, has grown to be within normal size range. Her mitral valve, which the surgeon worked on last summer, is also functioning very well which is more great news.

Her cardiologist and surgeon reviewed all the testing and have given the go ahead for this final stage of bi-ventricular repair which will give Hope as close to a normal heart as possible. This surgery will involve taking down some of the work-arounds previously created to make a normal pathway for bloodflow, patching the remaining ventricular septal defects, any additional mitral valve work needed, and putting in a pacemaker.

We sincerely appreciate prayers for Hope, for us as a family, and for the surgeons, doctors, and nurses caring for her.