Manon was born in June 2021, delivered via a planned C-section on what should have been an ordinary, joyful day.

The operating theatre was calm. Soft music played in the background—“Don’t Look Back in Anger” by Oasis—an oddly peaceful soundtrack for a moment that would soon become one of the most terrifying experiences of her parents’ lives.

At first, everything seemed fine.

Manon cried, breathed, and looked like any healthy newborn. Claire and Paul allowed themselves a sigh of relief. Their daughter was finally here.

But within days, subtle signs began to appear—quiet warnings that something was wrong.

The Signs No One Else Could See

By Friday, Manon’s skin had taken on a yellow tint. Her temperature dipped lower than expected. She made small grunting noises. Her tiny feet often felt cold to the touch.

Claire felt uneasy.

She brought Manon to the day assessment unit. Doctors checked for jaundice. Her weight gain was acceptable. Nothing raised immediate concern.

Yet Claire’s instincts screamed otherwise.

By the following Wednesday, Manon began refusing feeds. On Thursday, she went four hours without a wet nappy. Her lips took on a bluish tinge—a sign Claire would later recognize as a cry for oxygen.

This time, Claire didn’t hesitate.

She called the hospital and mentioned her Group B Strep history during pregnancy. The urgency in her voice cut through the routine. Manon was told to come in immediately.

A Mother’s Worst Fear

At 7:15 p.m., Claire arrived at the hospital.

Manon was taken from her arms.

Within minutes, the room filled with medical staff—nurses, junior doctors, consultants. Attempts were made to place a cannula. Antibiotics were started. Discussions of intubation echoed around the room.

Claire stood frozen, unable to hold her baby, watching strangers fight to stabilize her newborn.

Soon after, the pediatric intensive care retrieval team was called.

Manon needed to be transferred to a children’s hospital urgently.

Claire and Paul weren’t allowed to travel with her. They didn’t see the helicopter. They didn’t witness the flight that carried their baby’s life into the hands of people they had never met.

All Claire could do was clutch Manon’s teddy bear—Mister Bear—the only thing she was allowed to keep.

The hour-long drive felt endless. Silence filled the car. Fear pressed in from all sides.

The Diagnosis That Changed Everything

At the children’s hospital, doctors performed an echocardiogram.

The diagnosis was clear and devastating: Coarctation of the Aorta.

Manon’s aorta—the main artery carrying blood from the heart—was severely narrowed. Her heart was working overtime to pump blood through a vessel too small to sustain life.

Without urgent surgery, she would not survive.

Claire and Paul were told surgery could happen that very night.

Consent forms were placed in front of them. The words blurred together: stroke, heart failure, paralysis, death.

Claire signed with shaking hands.

Every heartbeat became a countdown.

Waiting for a Miracle

Hours passed.

At 3 p.m., Manon still hadn’t gone to surgery. At 4 p.m., another baby was wheeled out of the operating theatre.

Then, finally, at 5 p.m., the surgeon assessed Manon.

She was ready.

At 5:45 p.m., Claire kissed her daughter goodbye. She whispered words she hoped Manon could somehow hear. She pressed Mister Bear to her chest as the elevator doors closed and her baby disappeared.

The waiting room became a place of torture.

Minutes felt like hours. Every sound made Claire’s heart jump. Paul held her hand as tightly as he could, both of them powerless.

At 9:11 p.m., the phone rang.

The surgeon spoke gently: “Manon is out. The operation went well.”

Paul ran to the bathroom and vomited. Claire collapsed into a chair, sobbing. Relief, trauma, and exhaustion crashed together.

Recovery and Reflection

Manon’s recovery was slow and fragile.

She remained in PICU, monitored constantly. Every wire, every beep, every number on a screen mattered. Progress came in tiny steps.

Claire and Paul often spoke about the terrifying truth: if they had waited even a few hours longer, Manon might not be alive.

Claire’s instincts had saved her daughter’s life.

Through the emotional rollercoaster of intensive care, intubation, and surgery, they found support in medical staff and later in the Tiny Tickers community. Reading the stories of other families helped them process their trauma and find strength.

Turning Pain Into Change

Manon’s story didn’t end with survival.

Claire contacted the hospital’s PALS team and advocated for routine pulse oximetry screening for newborns—a simple test that can detect hidden heart defects before babies deteriorate.

The hospital adopted the screening.

Because of Manon, future babies would have a better chance.

A Thriving Little Girl

Today, Manon is healthy, happy, and thriving.

She attends routine cardiac check-ups. Each appointment is a reminder of how fragile life can be—and how powerful parental intuition truly is.

Claire reflects often on that quiet voice inside her.

“If I hadn’t listened to my instincts,” she says, “Manon wouldn’t be here today.”

A Message for Every Parent

Manon’s story is more than a survival story.

It is a lesson in vigilance. A testament to courage. Proof that parents know their children best—even when tests say everything is fine.

Hidden congenital heart defects can be silent. But listening, questioning, and pushing for answers can save lives.

Manon is living proof.

Every heartbeat she takes today is a miracle born from love, instinct, and extraordinary medical care.

And her story continues to remind families everywhere: never ignore the quiet warnings—because they might be the ones that matter most.