On August 17, 2015, I walked my baby down a cold, bright, white hall.  We came to large double doors.  It was at those doors where I handed my precious baby boy over to a nurse.  As I cried, she looked into my eyes (with Oliver in her arms) and she told me that she would take care of my baby.  I could tell by her eyes that she meant what she said.  She could feel my pain.  I watched as she entered the operating room with my 8 pound, 3 month old baby.  I had no choice but to trust this nurse.  She promised to keep me updated.  She promised to send me pictures.  This nurse kept her word.  She did everything she promised to do.  She didn’t make promises that she couldn’t keep.  She didn’t tell me everything was going to be fine.  And she didn’t tell me that I needed to be strong.  She let me cry and she gave me time to hug and love on my baby before surrendering him.  It was by far the hardest moment of my life.  

On August 17, 2016, we celebrated Oliver’s 1 year Heartaversary!  It was such an emotional day for me.  Of course, Oliver had no idea why we were singing and clapping. He had no idea why we had cupcakes in the shape of a heart or why we had a heart sparkler in front of him.  As he gets older I know he will look back and realize how precious August 17 is to our family.  It is the day he was made whole again!