He explained that there was a doctor who had returned from a two-week vacation just hours earlier, who was qualified and experienced enough to attempt a surgery that would essentially replace our daughter’s heartbeat with a machine.
I remembered sitting in an obstetrician’s office with her just one year before, and hearing a doctor tell us that we’d miscarried.
We’d agree to the surgery, and her fight would be her fight. Our fight would be for each other. In that hallway, we recited vows that I only wish we could have understood at our wedding.
The moment we gave her the go-ahead, it was like she was taking the ball, bases loaded with a one run lead in game seven of the world series.
“Alright. Let’s go. Let’s do this.”
Wherever you’re at, Dr. Cox, well done.
I feel like because of the work and compassion of many others, yourselves included, I get to do that for my daughter.
I wrote this letter to my daughter a couple of years ago about what the experience taught me. If this story touched you, I hope it can inspire you to see/do some good today thedadletters.com/2016/03/26/mir…