Some stories arrive quietly, while others crash into your life and change everything forever. Gunner’s story belongs to the latter. It is a story of courage born far too early, of fear that tested the limits of hope, and of a small heart that refused to give up—even when the odds seemed overwhelming.
A Birth Filled With Love—and Uncertainty
On March 2, 2023, our world shifted in the most profound way. We welcomed our son, Gunner, into our arms—tiny, perfect, and deeply loved from the very first breath. Like most parents, we imagined a future filled with ordinary joys: first smiles, sleepless nights, and milestones we would celebrate without a second thought.
But beneath that joy lingered a quiet unease. Throughout the pregnancy, there had been subtle signs that something wasn’t quite right. Still, nothing could have prepared us for how quickly happiness would turn into fear, or how dramatically our understanding of parenthood would change within days of his birth.
The Diagnosis That Changed Everything
Before Gunner even had a chance to settle into life outside the womb, we learned the truth: he had been diagnosed with a rare and complex congenital heart condition—Truncus Arteriosus Type II, along with a large ventricular septal defect (VSD).
In simple terms, Gunner’s heart wasn’t built the way it should be. Instead of having separate arteries to carry oxygen-rich and oxygen-poor blood, his heart relied on a single shared vessel, causing the two to mix. This meant his body wasn’t receiving the oxygen it needed to thrive. The large VSD only intensified the danger.
Hearing those words felt like the ground disappeared beneath our feet. Our newborn son—barely hours old—was facing a life-threatening battle, and survival would depend on immediate, aggressive medical intervention.
The First Fight: Days in the CICU
Born at 38 weeks, Gunner looked like a healthy baby at first glance. But it didn’t take long for the signs to emerge. His breathing became labored. His color changed. The alarms and urgent footsteps soon led us to the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit.
Seeing our newborn surrounded by wires, tubes, and machines is an image forever etched into our hearts. Every breath he took felt borrowed. Every minute felt fragile. The medical team worked tirelessly to stabilize him, while we stood by, powerless yet fiercely hopeful.
Those early weeks blurred together in a haze of fear, exhaustion, and whispered prayers. We learned quickly that love sometimes looks like standing silently beside an incubator, trusting strangers with your child’s life.
A Turning Point: The First Open-Heart Surgery
Just two weeks after his birth, on March 16, Gunner underwent his first open-heart surgery. Handing our baby over to surgeons was the hardest moment of our lives. No parent is ever ready to hear the words “open-heart surgery,” especially when they’re spoken about a newborn.
Yet that day became a turning point. Against all odds, the surgery was successful. Gunner fought through hours on the operating table and began the slow journey back.
After two long weeks in the CICU, we finally brought him home on April 8—still fragile, still healing, but alive. He came with an NG feeding tube, a reminder that recovery wouldn’t be simple. But home felt like victory.
Learning How to Heal—Together
The weeks that followed were filled with cautious optimism. Feeding was a challenge. Sleep was rare. Anxiety hovered over every cough, every breath. Yet Gunner surprised us daily with his resilience.
By the end of April, he no longer needed the feeding tube. He grew stronger, more alert, more himself. Each cardiology appointment brought guarded hope as his heart showed signs of progress. He wasn’t “fixed,” but he was fighting—and winning, one small step at a time.
When Hope Meets Another Hurdle
Just as life began to feel stable, another blow arrived. In November 2024, doctors recommended a heart catheterization to widen the conduit placed during his first surgery. We believed this would be a minor intervention—just another step forward.
Instead, it brought devastating news. The conduit wasn’t helping; it was harming. The only solution was another open-heart surgery.
Hearing that Gunner would need to face this ordeal again felt unbearable. The fear we thought we had survived came rushing back stronger than ever. But once again, there was no choice—only faith in his strength and trust in his medical team.
The Second Surgery: Courage Beyond Measure
On December 2, 2024, Gunner underwent his second open-heart surgery. This procedure was even more complex than the first, but it was necessary to give him a real chance at a healthy future.
Against all expectations, his recovery was nothing short of remarkable. Just four days later, he was home again—stronger, brighter, and seemingly unaware of the magnitude of what he had endured.
We watched in awe as he bounced back, proving once more that courage doesn’t come from size or age, but from an unbreakable will to live.
Thriving, Not Just Surviving
Today, Gunner is thriving. He laughs. He plays. He reaches milestones that once felt impossible. Each ordinary moment—a smile, a step, a hug—feels extraordinary.
There may be more surgeries in his future. More challenges. More unknowns. But what we know for certain is this: Gunner is not defined by his diagnosis. He is defined by his strength.
Gratitude That Runs Deep
Our hearts are forever changed by this journey. We owe endless gratitude to the medical team who gave Gunner his chance at life, and to the family, friends, and heart community who carried us when we felt we couldn’t stand.
This journey has taught us that hope can exist even in the darkest moments—and that miracles sometimes come in the smallest, bravest forms.
A Message to Other Heart Families
To every family walking a similar path: you are not alone. Your fear is valid. Your strength is real. And hope—no matter how fragile it feels—is always worth holding onto.
Gunner’s journey is far from over, but his story stands as proof that with love, resilience, and exceptional care, even the most fragile hearts can beat on—stronger than ever.