By Nannette McDonagh, Special to Everyday Health
I was 20 weeks pregnant with my third child when I went to the hospital with my husband, Pat, for our first general ultrasound.
Even though I had had two daughters already, I had never been able to see much in those grainy ultrasound images. I was surprised and happy when they told me we were having a boy!
But then the technician suddenly left the room, returning with a doctor. He told us my baby had a congenital heart defect, hypoplastic left heart syndrome (HLHS), in which the left side of the heart is severely underdeveloped. My baby essentially had only half a heart.
I felt a flood of emotions — worry, concern, fear.
“He probably won’t make it,” the doctor told me.
The diagnosis of HLHS was confirmed by a specialized ultrasound at Advocate Christ Medical Center in Oak Lawn, Illinois, about 63 miles away from our home in McHenry. HLHS is a rare congenital heart defect that affects about 1 of every 4,000 babies born each year in the United States.
The tests also showed our baby was missing a small hole between the heart’s upper chambers that most babies have — a hole that would have given us time to address his congenital heart condition. Instead, without it, my baby’s blood would have no way of getting to the rest of his body. If something couldn’t be done immediately, he wouldn’t survive long.
We were referred to a hospital where they were developing an experimental procedure to create this hole while the baby was still in my womb. It didn’t work for us.
They couldn’t do anything until my son — we decided to name him Ian — was born. 
As Ian’s delivery day approached, Alexander Javois, MD, FSCAI, a pediatric interventional cardiologist at Advocate’s Children’s Hospital, said he had a plan. Many babies with Ian’s condition didn’t survive because it took too long to get the heart-pumping, oxygen-rich blood to the rest of the body. By the time they were transferred from the delivery room to the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) and then to the catheterization laboratory, the babies would be fortunate to still be alive. (That’s me and Ian in the NICU in the photo.)
Dr. Javois suggested that Ian be delivered in one cath lab, then whisked to a neighboring cath lab, where a team of specialists would create the hole in his heart and handle any problems that arose.
They had never delivered a baby in a cath lab before. But every second counted because, without immediate treatment, as soon as Ian was born he would start to die.
It was Ian’s only chance. Even if they couldn’t save him, they’d learn from the attempt and maybe help someone else. I was willing to try anything that gave my baby a chance.
Ian was delivered by C-section in the cath lab. I kissed his head, and he was baptized as he was rushed 10 feet next door. He wasn’t looking good — he was gray, limp, and motionless.
Dr. Javois created the hole by passing a small tube through the umbilical cord to the wall of Ian’s heart. He then passed a wire through the catheter and heated it up to burn the hole through the wall. It took less than an hour — far less time than if he had had to be sent from another part of the hospital or transported from another hospital.
Ian had made it — but he had a long way to go. He was sent to the NICU, where he was hooked up to a tangle of tubes and monitors.
Ian’s heart had to be reconstructed so the right side could do all of the heart’s work on its own. He would face three major surgeries and a number of other procedures during the first few years of his life.
More than a month after he was born and two days before Christmas, Ian was ready to come home. Before we left the hospital, reporters and camera crews from Chicago-area media came, and we did interviews in the hospital room. Some called Ian a “miracle baby.” A few years ago, his case was featured on the television show Grey’s Anatomy.
Today, Ian is a typical 11-year-old boy. He likes football games, especially the marching band performance at halftime. He wants to join that band someday. His lungs aren’t strong enough to play a wind instrument, so he took up the drums, and he’s great at them!
Other hospitals have increasingly adopted Dr. Javois’ innovation of delivering babies with critical heart defects in the cath lab in order to save critical seconds. From my perspective, he gave me my little boy and I will be forever grateful.
Nannette McDonagh lives with her three children, Ian, Breanne, and Madison, in McHenry, Illinois. Her husband, Pat, passed away on June 12, 2014, of skin cancer.