What began as fear turned into fierce love, three kids, one mended heart, and a family who learned that worth isn’t earned; it’s given, and Josie reminds them daily. They joked on Christmas Eve 2019 about being extra “careful.” By Christmas morning, the test line was bright and undeniable. With a toddler and a baby already at home, they laughed at the timing and thanked God for choosing them. The room’s easy chatter faded at the 20-week scan in April 2020.

The doctor explained their daughter’s heart showed a Complete Atrioventricular Canal (CAVC) defect, and open-heart surgery would likely be needed around 4 to 6 months old. A pediatric cardiology visit added another worry: maybe a coarctation of the aorta, which could mean surgery in the first week of life. They went home to hard statistics and a category-4 surgical risk on public reporting sites, and the tears came in waves.
They decided to steady themselves with what they believed about God rather than promises they wished were there. Scripture didn’t guarantee outcomes, but it did anchor them to a God who doesn’t change. Peace didn’t look like certainty; it looked like being held no matter what. They learned the baby was a girl and named her Josie. “God will add.” The doctor sent off bloodwork to rule out chromosomal conditions that day. Worry kept her eyes open the night before the results until one clear thought settled her: either God knit this baby together or He didn’t. She slept. The call came in the morning: Trisomy 21, Down syndrome. For them, it didn’t reduce her; it simply named what had always been true. Josie’s worth hadn’t changed. They knew their daughter more fully and could prepare, ask better questions, and connect with families walking beside them.

Josie arrived in July 2020. Monitoring showed she didn’t need the early surgery for coarctation, one mercy. But with CAVC, her heart worked too hard. She burned calories, sweated constantly, and slept much of the day. In the fall, she slipped into heart failure; feeding lagged and weight stalled, so she was admitted for an NG tube. The days blurred into medications, alarms, and learning the careful art of caring for a fragile heart while soaking up baby sweetness.
On December 15, at four-and-a-half months old, Josie went in for open-heart surgery. In the quiet before, they asked themselves the most challenging questions: Would they still call God good if the news broke their hearts? Was his character tied to outcomes or unshaken by them? They chose the second. Hope, for them, was not a prediction; it was a person.

People held them up, meals, texts, money, prayers, love they could feel through hospital walls. On December 23, Josie came home with a mended heart and a smile that could split clouds. Big brother cheered, “Josie, you’re so brave!” Big sister curled beside her and rubbed her back. Dad whispered, “I’ll always advocate for you.” Grandma researched so Mom could just be Mom.
Their community made room, and the room grew warm. They kept naming what mattered: Josie didn’t become valuable when she healed, when anyone approved, or when milestones came on time. She was beneficial because she was. Down syndrome didn’t take that away; it showed them different kinds of beauty, patience, grit, laughter that rings out after hard days, and how a tiny girl can re-teach a whole family what love looks like in action.

Of course, there was paperwork and PT and cardiology follow-ups. There were also first giggles, soft cheeks under kisses, and a thousand ordinary miracles. They learned that advocacy is a steady drumbeat: schedule the appointments, ask better questions, insist on dignity, and celebrate the child, not the chart. They learned that praying through a trial changes you more than praying around it ever could. Looking back, she says she has never felt more entrusted than to be Josie’s mother.

Not because it’s easy, it isn’t, but because it is holy work to steward a life the world might misjudge. She sees her husband becoming the father who shows up at every hard moment, her kids becoming natural encouragers, and herself becoming braver than she knew. And under all that, one solid truth remains: even without any of it, no speeches, no milestones, no applause, Josie is enough because she was made on purpose.