The next week, at the time, was the longest of my life as I just wanted my baby and to go home. In combination with her other symptoms, she was admitted to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. The next morning, Leah was ambulanced to a specialty hospital a three-hour drive from where we were, after the doctors discovered a harsh heart murmur. I spent that precious night with my baby sleeping on my chest, and my husband at my side, not knowing I would not be able to hold my little girl again for a week. Her fingers were so large that they would bow as she stretched her hands, and her palms were rough, with much more tissue than normal. As I continued examining her small body, I counted her fingers and toes, realizing that her middle fingers and hands were much larger than the rest of those tiny limbs. She had a mass, dark purple and gruesome, protruding out the backside of her delicate neck. The minute I held my daughter Leah I knew that something was wrong. Instead, I felt my heart racing as the panic gripped my body, and the wild thoughts and fears raced through my head. I was robbed of these emotions when I first held my daughter Leah. Only new parents can relate to that feeling you get when you are first able to hold your newborn baby…that amazing wonder you see in your child’s eyes as she looks at you, and the relief that after ninths months you have a beautiful and healthy child.
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