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Ambassador Family
   
Since 2008 we had tried tirelessly to conceive a child. There was nothing more in life we wanted than to have a little one to call our own.  After years of trying, countless surgeries, doctors’ appointments, and two rounds of IVF.  We finally got the answer to our prayers. We were going to have a baby.  A feeling of relief, joy, and elation filled our lives for the next 16 weeks. We celebrated the news and made the announcements to family and friends.  However, that joy soon turned to dread.   Seventeen weeks into the pregnancy Tara awoke early one morning to a rush of fluid.  Frantic, we called the doctor and asked what to do.  We rushed to the ER to have a barrage of tests and a sonogram. The results came back that Tara had PPROMed. Simply put, her water had broken entirely too early and a baby was at risk. Immediately, we met with a high-risk doctor to discuss what was happen and what our options were.  In that instant, we received the worst news of our lives. That their baby was not going to make it. We were offered to terminate the pregnancy or simply go home and prepare for the worst to happen in a few days.
    The baby still had a strong beating heart we said to ourselves. And with that, we decided without a doubt that we would leave it in God’s hands. But we were not going to give up on our baby and so we became our unborn child’s advocate. There was a chance, however unlikely, that we could make it to viability. We had to get to 23 weeks gestation before there was any possibility of bringing our baby successfully into the world. We went home, and for 5 weeks Tara was on strict bed rest with the goal of trying to replenish her amniotic fluid.  We scoured every message board and blog on the internet to find anything that could help reach that 23-week mark.  We began ordering different supplements, trying home remedies, or even any old wives tale that we thought would help. Most importantly we prayed every day and had so many others praying for our baby to make it to 23 weeks.
Christmas Eve 2015 we checked into our hospital accommodations and settled in not knowing what would happen next.  Tara was on strict bed rest and now had constant monitoring. She was cared for by some of the most amazing people we had ever met. Despite all of the pokes with needles and the bad hospital food, she would not trade this time for anything.  Each day she spent there, we were one day closer to meeting our baby.  And we got to make some lifelong friends in the process.
The rollercoaster of our journey continued for 2 months. There were highs and lows. Good days and bad, with some raising concerns for Tara’s health and that of the baby's. We celebrated Christmas, New Years and Valentine’s Day from our hospital room. We even had the baby shower in the hospital and got to see all of our loved ones throughout our stay almost daily. We were always able to keep our spirits up and have faith that everything was going to turn out for the best.
Then it happened, in the early morning of February 23^rd, Tara’s doctors expressed their concerns about some potential risks to Tara and our baby’s health. Tara was 31 weeks and 4 days into her pregnancy and the doctors said that the risks of keeping the baby inside at this point outweighed the benefits.   They decided that we were going to deliver today. Since he was breech, a C-Section was called for. And at 12:04 PM our baby let out his first cry. It was music to our ears.  We were so relieved to know that his lungs worked and that our baby was going to make it. Our prayers were answered and our miracle had arrived. Dominic Michael Vigarino was born at 4lbs 1oz and 16 inches long. We knew then our baby was
We spent the next 36 days in the NICU with our son.  He needed to learn how to suck, swallow, and breathe together, and need to feed and grow. We lived in his room and were by his side every day.  We would stare at him in constant awe and kangaroo care with him as much as possible. He needed very little specialized care compared to many of the other babies in the NICU and thankfully he was blessed with an overall good health. He had many things to learn during his stay, but he accomplished them all with great success. We finally took our baby home on March 30th, 2016 after a 3-month stay at the Hospital.
In what seems like a blink of an eye, our little Nico is now 18 months old.  He walks talks, dances, and plays.  With a laugh that is contagious, he has such a personality already.  He has hit every milestone and impressed every doctor.  It has truly been an amazing blessing.
We cannot express enough, our deepest gratitude for everyone we have met along the way. Many special people have given us strength and hope and have helped us focus on our faith to carry us through our long journey. We will be eternally grateful for all the amazing people we met at the hospital and through the March of Dimes who helped us bring our miracle into the world safely. We hope our story will help strengthen and spread the message of the March of Dimes. And we pray that our story can provide others with the strength to carry on in their own journey…where there is a heartbeat, there is HOPE!