When I was 22 weeks pregnant we found out our 3rd child would be born with complex heart defects. The thing about a prenatal diagnosis is that it bring waves of grief, anger and doubt. Like many families we were offered termination and told that sometimes that is the most compassionate choice. Our sons particular combination of defects meant that while his surgical plan would follow a path of 3 palliative surgeries our specialist had no data to say how he would respond. We were informed that normal statistics on the success of these surgeries would not apply to our child.

I spent weeks mourning the loss of the life we planned. A life where my child could run and hike and surf and grow to be anything he wanted. A life where I would bring my child home from the hospital. Where each minor cold would not cause panic and anxiety. I wondered in those weeks if my child would have the opportunity to feel my arms, to rest his broken heart against mine. I wondered if the only life he would ever know would be cold and painful and ruled by hospital policy. I wondered if choosing a course for him that would guarantee pain and complication was selfish. Was I choosing a life he would not have chosen for himself?

In the 2.5 years since Judah's birth he has had 3 open heart surgeries and 5 cardiac catheterizations, he has seen more than a dozen specialist and care providers and taken medications everyday of his life. He has, like so many heart warriors, defied all odds. He continues to surprise and bring joy to his surgeons and medical specialists. What his life tells me each day though, is that it is all worth it for the chance at this day.

For him, as he shrugs off each doctors appointment and hospitalization, ready to get back to the joy of simply being, life is an adventure he has no idea anyone ever doubted he would conquer. He holds no fear as he climbs into his cardiologist lap and calls him Poppi. He holds out his finger for mama to check is "aquador" with a pulse ox. He doesn't blink when his heart limits him but climbs into my lap for a snuggle. He doesn't sit and worry about what he will not do but pushes the limits each day to see what he can do. Since his birth we have made many changes as a family to best be available to care for our son and his amazing sisters. His life has taught us so much about strength, empathy, grace, grief, loss, vulnerability, joy, gratitude and the power of community, it still brings me to my knees. Lessons we could not have fathomed, people we could have never known. As a family we each have created change in ourselves and our world because of the gift of Judah's life. We have been embraced by people whose lives he has forever connected to ours and that is beautiful. I watch my son laugh, embrace his sisters and tell me "I need you mama, I need you."

And I want the world to know I can see in him that he chooses life, this life, as long as it is gifted to him. He values his life. He embraces this day and this moment. The future is still uncertain and unclear but I know he will make the best of everyday he has and he will make me better as a mother and as a person because of it.