Veronica

Veronica and Mommy

On April 29, 2009, I delivered my third child – a beautiful baby girl we named Veronica. She was seemingly perfect – APGAR scores of 8 and 9 at 1 and 5 minutes, respectively, with a birth weight of 8 lbs 7 oz. According to her hospital discharge physical examination, she was “a perfectly healthy newborn baby girl.” And at the time, there was no reason to think otherwise.

Except for experiencing newborn jaundice that resolved by 10 days, Veronica thrived during the first month of her life. She was eating well and had gained one pound by her four-week check up.

She was a wonderful addition to our family. Her older sister, Natalie and Caroline, were thrilled with their new baby. Veronica had beautiful big blue eyes, rosebud lips, velvety skin, and an angelic disposition. She patiently tolerated her sisters' vigorous pokes and prods; as long as she was fed and clean, she was very content.

At six weeks of age, Veronica began to develop some difficulty feeding. She spit up more often, and vomited on several occasions. However, being a third time mom, none of those symptoms were particularly alarming. My older children both had reflux and were not the easiest babies to feed.

When her symptoms persisted despite modifications in my own diet (Veronica was breastfed), I scheduled an appointment for June 19th, 2009, with our pediatrician. Tragically, we never made it to that appointment. Shortly before midnight, on June 18, 2009, Veronica died suddenly at home. She was only 7 weeks old.

An autopsy conducted the following day at the Maryland Medical Examiner’s Office found that Veronica had died from a critical congenital heart defect – total anomalous pulmonary venous connection (TAPVC) with an atrial septal defect (ASD). All four pulmonary veins returned directly to her right atrium, and her heart was nearly four times the normal size.

I had no idea she was critically ill – she never was cyanotic, her breathing was never labored, and she had been gaining weight appropriately. After she died, I read about the symptoms of heart failure in babies; she had only one – difficulty feeding. It never crossed my mind that this mild and non-specific symptom could have been a sign of a life- threatening anomaly.

Veronica is never far from my thoughts. I miss her every minute of every day, and would do anything to hold her again even for a moment.

Veronica's brief life changed my own life and outlook more profoundly than any person I've ever known, or any experience I've ever had. Although she is no longer physically here, her spirit is very much a presence in our family and she lives on through us. Natalie and Caroline say goodnight to their sister every night before bed, and reminisce about all the fun things we did when Veronica was with us.

We are better people and a closer family for having known, loved and lost our precious little V.