Ava’s 10 Year Smileversary

Ten years.

Ten years since I kissed her sweet little face that I loved so dearly. Ten years since I did one of the hardest things I’ve ever done - laying my four-month-old baby in the arms of a stranger and watching them walk away.

Ten years since seeing my sweet little girl for a second first time… and falling in love with her new smile while my heart quietly mourned her original one at the same time.

Before that day, I had already kissed that tiny face thousands of times. I had memorized every curve of her little smile - the one that would only be mine for four short months.

Life was busy back then. My husband was serving in a line unit in the Army, which meant our days could swing between incredibly boring and incredibly stressful (if you know, you know). Most of my days were spent chasing a very energetic toddler who loved life with his whole heart.

And then one day, I just knew - I was pregnant again.

My first baby was only fourteen months old, and I wasn’t exactly planning to add another little blessing so soon. In fact, my husband had hoped we might wait until we were out of the Army before growing our family again.

But God had other plans. Looking back now, I can see they were very good plans.

The first half of the pregnancy was a little rough, mostly because slowing down wasn’t really an option with a toddler running around. But we managed, and eventually the day came for our 20-week anatomy scan. I was nervous and excited all at once.

The technician took all the measurements and then told us the news - it was a girl. I was thrilled. A boy and a girl felt like the perfect little pair. Later that same day we headed to a mandatory “fun day” with my husband’s unit. Life felt normal.

A week later, just a couple of hours before my husband was due home, I got a call from my OB.

She had news about my baby girl. I don’t remember every detail of that conversation, but I remember the moment she told me that our daughter would be born with a cleft lip - and possibly a cleft palate.

My world stopped.

What did this mean?

Would she be able to eat?

Would we be able to breastfeed?

Would she be healthy?

Fear rushed in faster than answers.

I remember calling my mom, completely overwhelmed and not knowing what to do. I wondered if I had done something wrong - or failed to do something I should have. I felt like I was spiraling.

When my husband finally got home that evening, I broke the news to him. From that point forward, the rest of the pregnancy carried a weight of unknowns we had never expected.

During my third trimester, my husband began the process of leaving the Army. We decided to move back to Conroe so we could be close to Texas Children’s Hospital in the Houston Medical Center.

Texas Children’s is world-renowned, and we wanted the best possible care for our little girl.

So late in my pregnancy, we packed up our apartment in Colorado. My husband loaded the biggest Penske truck we could rent, my sweet mother-in-love came up to help us move back, and we began the long drive back to Texas.

Our plan was simple: get settled, get comfortable, and wait for baby. Of course, life had other plans.

At the last minute we learned my husband would have to remain in Colorado for another month before taking terminal leave and joining us in Texas.

That was a hard day.

Eventually he made it home - and two weeks later, ten days after her due date, Ava made her debut.

It was my quickest delivery. My water broke around 7 p.m., and she was born just after 2:30 in the morning. I will never forget the moment they placed her on my chest. I was instantly in love.

And her little cleft lip was perfect to me.

We came to the hospital prepared with the two bottles most recommended for cleft babies - which turned out to be a very good thing, because the hospital didn’t actually have anything designed for feeding cleft babies.

Ava took to the Haberman bottle immediately, and we all began learning together what feeding her would look like. I was determined to give her the best start I could, so I pumped.

That journey lasted fifteen months.

When we were discharged a few days later, we brought our sweet little girl home to meet her big brother.

Life during that season was not easy.

My husband was adjusting to civilian life. I was battling postpartum depression. Ava had weekly appointments downtown with the cleft team for her NAM device (Nasoalveolar Molding). We still see that orthodontist today - he’s one of our favorites. And Charlie, our toddler, was simply thrilled to have a new little friend.

Eventually the day came for Ava’s first surgery. She was four and a half months old.

We arrived early that morning, and she was one of the first surgeries scheduled that day. Waiting for updates felt like torture, but finally the moment came when we were allowed back to see her in recovery.

Seeing her face for the first time after surgery was both beautiful and heartbreaking all at once.

It’s hard to explain that feeling.

Her new little smile was incredible - and I was deeply grateful for the skill of the surgeons who had repaired her lip so beautifully. But there was also a quiet ache in my heart knowing the smile I had kissed every day for four months was gone.

We stayed overnight to make sure she could eat - which she did like the absolute champ she is - and the very next day we were able to bring her home. She healed beautifully and quickly began chubbing up even more.

There were more surgeries ahead of us in the years that followed. But this first one was the hardest.

It was the moment my little girl’s face changed.

I am endlessly grateful for the incredible cleft team who cared for Ava and for the beautiful outcome of her lip repair.

But if I’m being honest… A small part of me will probably always miss that original smile.

Ten years later, that tiny baby girl is now a brave, funny, strong-willed kid who lights up a room with that same smile.

Her journey with cleft care isn’t completely finished. There have been more procedures and surgeries along the way, and there will still be a few more ahead of us in the coming years. That’s simply part of the road families like ours walk.

But looking back now, I can see so clearly how faithful God has been through every part of it.

Through the fear when we first heard the diagnosis.

Through the long appointments and waiting rooms.

Through the surgeries and recoveries.

And through the quiet strength of a little girl who handled it all far better than her parents ever did.

Ten years ago today, a surgeon repaired Ava’s lip.

But the courage, the resilience, and the joy in that smile… those have always been hers.

Happy 10-Year Smileversary, Ava!

Your smile has always been worth it.