My Broken-Hearted Baby is Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

Written by Jenna Hill

My Broken-Hearted Baby is Fearfully and Wonderfully MadeFlick… Flick…. Flick.

My thumb flicks against my phone screen as I scroll through my Instagram photos, reminiscing of precious moments that still seem so fresh in my memory. What a year it’s been. I’ve watched this beautiful baby girl transform before my very eyes.

Flick… Flick… Flick.

A little farther back in time I go. There’s the one where my knobby-kneed baby took her first steps. It seemed like those steps would never come unassisted. Now I don’t know if she would hold my hand even if her little arm was handcuffed to mine.

Flick… Flick… Flick.

And there’s her first Independence Day, her daddy covering her ears with his big hands while she marveled at the bursts of light coming from the sky. The fireworks never frightened her. She knew her daddy — her protector — was right by her side.

Flick…. Flick… Flick.

Like scrolling back in time, that baby in the photos grows younger and younger before my eyes. Each picture is a steady reminder that time is the ultimate thief, coming in and snatching the infant stage right out from under my eyes. There’s now a toddler sleeping in that infant’s crib.


And then I come to that photo.

My thumb freezes.

My stomach feels as if it’s being wrung like a wet dishrag.

I have to remind myself to take my next breath.

My eyes burn as I fight back the tears.

The description of the picture shows that this photo was posted 65 weeks ago. As I look across the room and glance in the mirror, I see the dark circles that have made their home under my eyes. Those dark circles try to convince me that it’s surely been closer to 10 years, yet my heart pleads a different case. My heart still feels the pain like it was yesterday.

In that photo, I see a tiny, 3-week-old baby. She is wearing an infant gown monogrammed with Psalm 139:14.

“I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”

That gown was given to me at my baby shower, when all I knew of my child was an ultrasound photo. I didn’t know the gender, I didn’t know her name. I didn’t know she would surprise us with two bottom teeth when she arrived. All I knew was this baby growing inside me was perfect and healthy. And somehow this baby would change our lives.

But 65 weeks ago when I took this photo, I discovered just how much our lives were about to change. Sixty-five weeks ago, my perfect three-week-old baby girl was diagnosed with multiple congenital heart defects. After a small heart murmur was heard at her one-week pediatrician appointment, we were referred to a cardiologist “just to be safe.”

Two weeks later on October 15, 2013, everything we knew about our perfect baby girl crumbled out of our grasp as we sat in that cardiologist’s office listening to a stranger describe every tiny detail about our perfect little baby’s very complicated heart. This man we just met would be the one with whom we would entrust our daughter’s life.

I had to glance down at his name tag to even remember his name, yet he held the answer to every question running through my mind. That day he had only one immediate suggestion. “Mr. and Mrs. Hill, you both need to go home and you need to cry. Have a good cry. This is a lot.”

And cry we did.

We’ve cried oceans of tears since that day, but we’ve also laughed abundantly. We’ve celebrated each and every milestone. We’ve prayed, thanking God for his Hand in our daughter’s situation.

And we’ve savored every precious moment with this beautiful blessing we’ve been given.

What we will face in the next few years is so uncertain. Our daughter will have her first open heart surgery this spring/summer. But we know that the Lord has provided:

We know that she is in great hands. We know that medical research has come a long way, and we know that each day we’ve had has been a gift.

This little girl has been changing our lives for 65 weeks. My hope is that continues for the next 65 years.

And as time ticks by, I look forward to flicking through the memories.

JennaAbout the Author: Jenna is a stay-at-home mom who has taken on the role of “Mama to many” through foster care and now her first bio daughter, Harper. Her family resides in Sweet Home Alabama. Jenna’s days are full of traveling (to the next doctor’s appointment), reading (blogs because there is certainly no time for books) and playing–okay, losing–to her husband in a game of chess.

About The Author


Mary Katherine is a southerner, born and raised. Growing up in Alabama, she developed an affinity for lightning bugs, sweet tea, playing guitar, and having strong opinions. She's happily married with a son (Nugget) and two fur babies. Fun facts: MK is a living kidney donor, speaks a little Thai, and has written two novels.


  1. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️What a gift your lives and your words are to all of us. We all are watching you waiting to see how you handle all of this and you never disappoint. God hand picked you for a reason–cause He not only made Harper, He made you!!!

  2. You have blessed my heart to overflowing!!!!! What a testimony and to think, I am so blessed to say I know this special daddy as a former student. Forever in my prayers with great love!!!

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