Our ordeal began, we imagine, much like everyone's, during a routine ultrasound at 21 weeks gestation. We were trying to find the perfect name for our third child when our fairy-tale life took a horrible turn. A congenital diaphragmatic hernia? We listened in shock as our obstetrician explained this anomaly. He used Amy's anatomy to describe the problem and for the first few minutes, we thought he was telling us about a problem with Amy's diaphragm.

In fact, he was telling us that our baby had a hole in his diaphragm, the lower viscera was coming through that hole into the chest cavity and was taking up the space our baby's lungs needed to grow. If our baby's lungs had no room to grow, he would not be able to breathe when he was born. Before our conversation was over, our doctor told us about a pioneering procedure done at the Fetal Treatment Center at UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital that he had read about in a journal and said he would look into it for us.

Within a week, we got a call from Jody Farrell, the nurse coordinator from the Fetal Treatment Center. Jody and her assistant were very patient, prompt and thorough in our initial education regarding our baby's problem. They faxed us articles and we spent countless hours trying to decipher this new language. We pored over the articles with a medical dictionary and we began to understand what our baby, Michael, and we were in for.

On the way to California

Before we knew it, we were on a plane for San Francisco, 3,000 miles from home for an evaluation. In San Francisco, we found out our baby's prognosis was very poor. But it was time to put our faith in God and relentlessly pursue the avenue that we felt gave our baby the best chance of survival and a normal life. Unfortunately, our insurance carrier did not agree.

The six days that followed were intense, but the Labor and Delivery staff was incredible. They did a phenomenal job managing the numerous issues that seemed to arise one after another. Amy recovered like a champ and it was off to the Ronald McDonald house with her mother, Peg, to remain in bed and pray. Three short weeks later, Amy went into preterm labor and I caught the first plane out of Boston. It was Feb. 9 at noon that our tough little guy was born nine-and-a-half-weeks premature, weighing in at a whopping 3 pounds, 8 ounces. Michael Jon was stabilized and was breathing with the help of a conventional ventilator — a special little boy who was doing well, he had clearly benefited from his fetal surgery.

Thank you

The three months that followed were undoubtedly the most intense and emotionally draining weeks of our lives. We are still speechless and in awe of the talented and caring staff who nurtured Michael to the point that he is at today.

There are too many "thank yous" to mention. We thank God every day for his mercy and strength. We are also lucky enough to be blessed with a rock solid family who have put their lives on hold to care for our two other children, Matt and Sarah, on the East Coast while we were in California. We are forever indebted to Dr. Harrison's pioneering insight and his talented hands. Dr. Albanese and Dr. Jennings (Beat Navy), Dr. Sola, and Dr. Hawgood were all vital contributors to Michael's recovery. The entire team of caregivers at UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital was nothing short of spectacular.

Among many other sick babies, they combined their unique talents to save our son. How can we possibly express our gratitude? "Thank you" is not enough. Bundt cake anyone?