My son Sebastian marches to the beat of his own drum. He has always done things his way ― even before he was born.
Early on in my pregnancy we learned that Sebby wasn’t growing properly. When he was born eight weeks early, he weighed just 15 ounces. That’s about the same as a can of soup. Typically, babies that age weigh more than three times that.
Sebby couldn’t breathe without a ventilator. We finally took him home after three months in the neonatal intensive care unit. About a month later, we noticed his coloring looked off. He was lethargic. We rushed Sebby to Children’s National Hospital.
He was on the verge of heart failure, likely because his lungs were so underdeveloped at birth. His tiny body needed time to catch up. His care team in the cardiac intensive care unit worked like an orchestra. These incredible people knew their roles exactly. They stabilized him and saved his life.
Sebby is now an active, smart 5-year-old who loves dinosaurs and spending time at the playground with his older brother, Jameson. Sebby visits his cardiologist every few months for a check of his heart and lungs.
We think of Sebby as our little miracle. I felt his fighting spirit when I was pregnant. His spirit is stronger than ever, today. He never gave up and neither did his doctors and nurses at Children’s National.
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