From the Beginning

It took over 36 hours from the moment we checked in to the hospital to the birth of my daughter. It was 1 in the morning when she would enter the world. She came out with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. However, I still had the pleasure of cutting the cord. Everything was looking good. I would just watch her as she slept. My first daughter, and she was beautiful. Her cry was very soft, and I was afraid I would not be able to hear her, so I just stayed up watching her. There were times when I would notice her face turn blue. When I got up and turned on the light to get a closer look, she was back to normal. I saw it several times but thought it was just my imagination.

My mother and siblings traveled to meet the newest family member. I was getting ready to pick them up from the airport when I noticed it again; my daughter turned blue. The same thing happened; I would turn on the lights, and she was back to normal. I leaned over, kissed her, and left to pick up my mom. From the airport, we went to the house so they could get some rest, and well, I took that opportunity to sleep on something other than the awesome couch they had in the hospital room. The next morning had arrived, I woke up early, showered, and was ready to see my beautiful daughter. Not knowing we were on it for a surprise, we arrived at the hospital to find an empty bassinet. One of the nurses noticed the color change and noticed that my daughter would stop breathing. My family would have to wait a little longer to finally meet her. 

For the next two weeks, we would spend our days hanging out with my 22-time in the NICU. We would show up first thing in the morning and spend the day with her. That was our life. These were the most difficult days. 

I wondered why she was born this way. Was God punishing me for my sins? What did I do? Why me? Why her? Was it something that her mom did? 

I didn’t understand why she had to suffer. I wondered why I wasn’t the one suffering. I remember holding her in the NICU and just crying; I wanted my baby back. I wanted my daughter out of that room; I wanted her to breathe and come home where she belonged. I would sit beside her crib and ask for forgiveness; I felt extremely guilty! She didn’t deserve this. 

Luckily for us, her doctor studied DiGeorge syndrome at medical school and noticed that my 22-qtie had some of the features of a child with DiGeorge. He ordered a genetics test to verify. 

Once the test results came back, my daughter was officially diagnosed with DiGeorge Syndrome. She was considered a Denovo case; she was just one of the lucky babies to have it. 

The first two weeks were full of emotions. For us, this was only the beginning of the journey.