From the very beginning, Bonnie-Rose came into our lives wrapped in love, dreams, and the kind of hope every parent carries for their newborn child. She was a beautiful baby, born at a healthy weight, and to the outside world, everything appeared normal. But deep in a mother’s heart, there is an instinct that never sleeps. Almost immediately, I felt that something wasn’t quite right. What followed was a journey no family ever prepares for—a journey filled with fear, resilience, heartbreak, and ultimately, extraordinary hope.
In those early weeks, feeding became our first battle. What should have been peaceful, bonding moments quickly turned into exhausting struggles. Bonnie-Rose would grow drenched in sweat, her tiny body working far harder than it should. She tired quickly, unable to finish a feed, her little chest rising and falling as if she had run a marathon rather than taken a bottle. Her skin often looked pale, sometimes with a dusky tone that made my heart sink every time I noticed it. Each feed felt like a fight she was too small to be fighting.
We went back and forth to the hospital more times than I can count. Each visit ended with reassurance. We were told she was simply a “fussy feeder.” We were sent home, encouraged to try again, to be patient, to trust that things would improve. But a mother knows. I watched my daughter struggle, and I knew in my bones that this was more than fussiness. As the weeks passed, her weight began to drop. The words “failing to thrive” entered our lives, and with them came a deep, aching fear. No parent is ever prepared to hear that their baby is not growing the way she should.
Everything changed on a day that began like any other hospital visit. Bonnie-Rose was just one month old when a doctor noticed something that would alter our lives forever—a heart murmur. That single observation opened the door to the truth we had been searching for. When we explained her feeding struggles, the sweating, the exhaustion, the pale color, the medical team moved quickly. An echocardiogram was ordered, and within hours, our world shifted.
The diagnosis was devastating: a large ventricular septal defect—a hole in her heart. Her heart was enlarged. Her liver was enlarged. Our tiny baby was in congestive heart failure. I remember sitting there, hearing the words, feeling as if the air had been sucked from my lungs. Nothing prepares you for the moment you realize your child’s heart is literally broken. As parents, we are meant to protect our children, to fix their problems with kisses and cuddles. But this was something far beyond our control, and the helplessness was overwhelming.
She was started on medication to help reduce the strain on her heart. We also raised concerns about her feeding and asked about an NG tube to help her get the nutrition she desperately needed. At first, our request was declined, and instead, she was given high-energy formula. We held onto that small step, hoping it would be enough, even though deep down we feared it wouldn’t be.
A month later, it became clear that hope alone was not enough. Bonnie-Rose continued to struggle, and her weight gain was still poor. Finally, the doctors agreed to insert an NG tube. That moment became a turning point in her journey. Almost immediately, she began to gain weight. For the first time in what felt like forever, we saw progress. Watching the numbers on the scale slowly climb felt like a miracle. It was a reminder that even the smallest victories can feel like mountains conquered.
Yet, the shadow of her heart condition never left us. Because of the size of her VSD and the severity of her symptoms, surgery was a very real possibility. The thought of open-heart surgery on our tiny baby was terrifying. No parent should ever have to imagine their child on an operating table, surrounded by machines and wires. And yet, Bonnie-Rose continued to surprise us. She fought. She adapted. She grew stronger in ways that felt nothing short of extraordinary.
As time went on, we began to see glimpses of the little girl she was becoming. Her weight improved. Her personality started to shine through. She smiled. She reacted. She showed us that inside that fragile body was a fierce, determined spirit. But the challenges remained. She became breathless easily. When she caught a cold, her skin would sometimes turn mottled blue, a painful reminder of how hard her heart was working. Her immune system struggled, and each illness felt like another mountain to climb.
Instead of immediate surgery, Bonnie-Rose was placed under close and constant monitoring. Regular echocardiograms became part of our routine. Each appointment came with anxiety, with fear of bad news, with silent prayers whispered in waiting rooms. And each time we were told she was holding on, that her heart, though imperfect, was managing. Every milestone—no matter how small—felt like a triumph. A little more weight. A little more strength. A little more life shining in her eyes.
Her physical development was slower than other children, but her spirit was unstoppable. To look at her now, you would never guess how much she has endured. She is a living reminder that strength does not come from size or age, but from an unbreakable will to keep going.
Today, Bonnie-Rose continues to face regular check-ups, and surgery to repair her VSD is still part of her future. But today, she is thriving. She laughs. She grows. She shows us, every single day, that hope is stronger than fear. We have learned to celebrate every smile, every step forward, every ordinary moment that once felt so uncertain.
Our journey has taught us that love is not passive—it is fierce, relentless, and powerful. Bonnie-Rose is our miracle. She has taught us more about courage, patience, and unconditional love than we ever imagined possible.
To every parent walking a similar path: you are not alone. Your strength is greater than you know. Your love is your child’s greatest medicine. Every small victory matters. Every step forward is worth celebrating.
Bonnie-Rose’s heart may have begun with a hole, but it is filled with more love, bravery, and hope than we could have ever dreamed. And no matter what the future holds, we will walk it together—hand in hand, heart to heart, fighting for her, always.