Page 82 of Secret Baby's Second Shot

The next morning, I posted an update online, thanking everyone for their prayers and support. The responses were immediate—comments filled with love, congratulations, and relief. It reminded me just how many people had been rooting for Ava, and how much strength we’d found in the love surrounding us.

As I sat by her side, watching her peacefully sleep, I finally let myself breathe deeply. Ava was home. Enzo was by my side. And for the first time in years, I could look to the future with hope.

46

SUMMER

The email arrived early in the morning, tucked between a notice from Ava’s school and an offer for discounted kids' clothes. I was scrolling absentmindedly while sipping my coffee when the subject line caught my eye:“Ava’s Journey: Request for an Interview.”My heart skipped a beat as I opened it. The message was from Jessica Grant, the journalist who had written about us during Ava’s surgery. She wanted to follow up on Ava’s recovery and share her story in a way that could inspire other families.

I sat back in my chair, my emotions a tangled mess. The thought of putting Ava’s journey into the public eye again made my chest tighten, but at the same time, I couldn’t ignore how much her story had resonated with people. The outpouring of support we’d received during her fight had been overwhelming, and if sharing her story could give another family the hope they needed, wasn’t it worth considering?

“What’s that look?” Enzo’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. He walked into the kitchen, freshly showered and looking more relaxed than he had in weeks.

I handed him my phone, watching his expression as he read the email. His brows lifted slightly, then he nodded. “Jessica’s good. She handled the last article with care.”

“She did,” I admitted. “But I’m nervous. This isn’t just about me and you—it’s about Ava.”

Enzo set the phone on the counter and placed his hands on my shoulders, his touch grounding. “It’s your call, Summer. If you don’t want to do it, that’s okay. But if you think it could help someone, maybe it’s worth it.”

I sighed, glancing toward the living room where Ava was playing with Bunny, her laughter a sound I’d never take for granted again. “We’ll ask her. If she’s okay with it, we’ll do it.”

Jessica arrived a few days later,her warm smile putting me at ease. She’d brought along a small camera crew, nothing overwhelming, and they set up quickly in our living room. Ava watched curiously, Bunny perched in her lap as she swung her legs from the couch.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” I asked, crouching beside her.

She nodded, her curls bouncing. “Is Bunny ready too?”

I laughed, adjusting Bunny’s bow tie. “He’s definitely ready.”

Jessica knelt to Ava’s level, her tone gentle. “Hi, Ava. I’m Jessica. We’re going to talk about how brave you’ve been. Is that okay?”

Ava smiled shyly. “Okay.”

The interview startedwith simple questions. Ava talked about her time in the hospital, describing the machines and nurses in a way only a child could. She giggled as she explained how Bunnyhad been her constant companion, making sure she wasn’t scared.

“Bunny was very brave,” Ava said solemnly. “And he told me I had to be brave too.”

Jessica smiled, glancing at me. “It sounds like Bunny helped you a lot. Did anyone else help you feel brave?”

Ava nodded enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up as she turned to me and Enzo. “Mommy and Daddy. They were always there. They held my hand and told me stories and gave me hugs when I felt yucky.”

Tears stung my eyes, and I reached over to squeeze her hand. “We’re so proud of you, sweetheart,” I said softly.

Jessica turnedher attention to us next, her questions more focused on our experience as parents. Enzo spoke first, his voice steady as he recounted the sleepless nights, the endless prayers, and the moment Ava first squeezed his hand after surgery.

“I’m a doctor,” he said, his tone quieter now. “I’ve seen so many families go through things like this, but nothing could have prepared me for it being my own daughter. It was… humbling. And terrifying. But Ava taught me what it means to fight.”

I swallowed hard, my hands gripping the edge of the couch as I added my own perspective. “There were times I felt like I couldn’t breathe, like the fear was too much. But then I’d look at her, and I’d see how hard she was fighting, and I knew I couldn’t give up. She’s the bravest person I know.”

When the interview wrapped up,Jessica thanked us for being so open and vulnerable. “This is going to resonate with so manypeople,” she said warmly. “Thank you for trusting me with your story.”

After the crew left, Ava climbed into my lap, Bunny squished between us. “Was that okay, Mommy?” she asked, her voice small.

I kissed her forehead, holding her close. “It was perfect, baby. Just like you.”

The articleand video were published a week later, and the response was immediate. Messages poured in from all over—parents sharing their own stories, strangers offering words of encouragement, and even medical professionals commending Ava’s bravery.

“This is amazing,” Elaine said as she scrolled through the comments on her phone. “People are really moved by Ava’s story.”

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