Our story begins at the height of the pandemic, in early 2021. At our 20-week anatomy scan, we learned that our twins were not going to have the same journey. Henry’s heart looked perfectly healthy. Eleanor’s did not.

The doctor told us that Eleanor had a severe heart defect called a double-inlet left ventricle. We were terrified. The first cardiologist we saw offered us no compassion and little hope he even suggested termination. We left that appointment shaken, devastated, and wondering how we would ever move forward.

Thankfully, we soon found another cardiologist who was kind, patient, and willing to walk with us through the unknown. He gave us something we desperately needed: hope.

At 34 weeks, everything changed again. My water broke early, and I was rushed by life flight from Knoxville to Nashville. By the time my husband arrived, I was already under general anesthesia for an emergency C-section. Henry and Eleanor came into this world without me even being awake to meet them.

Henry spent 11 days in the NICU before we brought him home. Eleanor stayed much longer 63 days in the NICU. During that time, she underwent a pulmonary artery banding procedure to carefully balance the blood flow between her heart and lungs, giving her the chance to grow stronger before her next open-heart surgery. After her banding surgery, she spent another 14 days on the cardiac floor. Those early days were filled with fear, exhaustion, and waiting. She even had a scare with what doctors thought could be a life-threatening bowel condition—it turned out to be a dairy sensitivity. Still, she went home with a feeding tube, and we were thrown into the overwhelming challenge of caring for two premature babies, one of them with a critical heart condition.

When Eleanor was 7 months old, she had her second surgery, the Glenn. It was just after Christmas. We packed up our lives Henry too, because I was still breastfeeding and leaned on my parents for help. Miraculously, Eleanor was home in just four days. We celebrated by working with a tube-weaning service, and right before the twins’ first birthday, Eleanor no longer needed her feeding tube. That milestone felt like freedom.

From there, we worked hard to focus on life beyond hospitals and appointments. We bought a camper, got a zoo membership, made new friends, and found our way back to church. It wasn’t always easy Eleanor faced delays and needed multiple therapies: speech, feeding, occupational, physical therapy with braces, and even behavioral support. Henry needed some therapy, too. We were often juggling appointments, but we also spent time camping, laughing, and watching our babies grow.

Eleanor developed a fierce fear of anything medical. White coat syndrome hit her hard, and even the smallest checkup became a battle. But that same fierce spirit is part of who she is she has big emotions, a strong personality, and a heart that refuses to give up.

In April 2025, Eleanor had her final scheduled surgery, the Fontan. This was the surgery we had been waiting for since the beginning. She amazed us again by being home in just one week, recovering beautifully. Physically, her heart looks great. Emotionally, though, it has been harder. At four years old, she understands so much more than before, and we’re walking through those feelings with her.

Today, Eleanor is dancing, while Henry is playing soccer. We’ve camped more this year than ever, and both twins have a wonderful group of friends. Life is still complicated, but it’s full. Eleanor is thriving not because her path has been easy, but because she has fought through every challenge with courage, resilience, and her own unique spark.

We are so proud of her. Eleanor is truly our Heart Warrior.