M is for miracle in Cherokee
5-year-old needs heart, liver transplant
By Tim Gallagher, Journal staff writer | Posted: Friday, September 08, 2006
Carrie and Bailey Cordova, 5, sit on the couch at home in Cherokee, Iowa. They also put puzzles together and write capital letters. Bailey, who could be in kindergarten, is at home this year waiting to see if she qualifies for a heart and liver transplant. (Photos by Tim Gallagher)
CHEROKEE, Iowa -- I took our youngest daughter to kindergarten on Thursday. Gave her a pat on the head and told her to be a good girl. She nodded and skipped off to music class.
Then I hit the road for Cherokee, where I met another little girl. Bailey Cordova, youngest daughter of Chris and Carrie Cordova, skips like my Sally. She plays with dolls and puts together puzzles on her Dora the Explorer table. She loves puppies and purple, in that order. B is her favorite letter.
She's the 5-year-old girl next door, pedaling her bike, teasing older siblings.
The difference: Bailey hasn't been to school yet. She needs a new heart. And a new liver. Her mother calls her the family miracle and can't wait to photograph Bailey on her graduation day.
But she isn't taking it for granted. When your baby is sick, you don't.
"We want to make her life the best experience possible," says Carrie, stroking Bailey's blonde hair. "If she's gone next year, at least I'll know I tried to make her life the best I could."
Mom delivers the statement with a mix of resignation, confidence and defiance.
"We've had to face things no parent with a 5-year-old should have to face," Carrie says. "I'd love to see her on her graduation day. But for now, we're just going to love her as much as we can. We don't know what the future holds."
The future holds this much: The Cordovas head to California at the end of the month for testing to determine if Bailey qualifies for a heart and liver transplant. Residents around Cherokee, Galva and Le Mars will pitch in by hosting a benefit dinner from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Sunday at Veterans Memorial Hall in Holstein. Freewill donations will help defray travel expenses. The family is insured.
While it would be easier to fly, they insist on driving. It's Bailey's first field trip.
"We are taking the whole family to California," says Carrie. "Bailey is on oxygen at night, so we'll load up her oxygen tanks, all three kids and take off. Bailey has never been anywhere but Iowa or Nebraska. We want her to see the mountains."
Upon arriving at Lucille Packard Children's Hospital at Stanford University, the family will learn how advanced Bailey's single left ventricle heart disease and biliary arteritis liver disease have become.
"We'll find out where they might place her on a waiting list," says Carrie.
In the meantime, they keep all eyes on Bailey, making her as comfy as can be.
"I haven't worked in six weeks," says Carrie, who toils on a production line making ice cream cones at Wells Dairy in Le Mars. "I've been at home playing with Bailey and making sure she does her school work. Mrs. Lux, the kindergarten teacher, sent a packet to us and told us they're working on the letter N. So, we've been practicing our Ns."
Bailey colors, says her ABCs and counts to 15. A lefty, she tries time and again to print a capital B perfectly.
She labors while breathing, her eyes a bit yellow. She naps when tired and lays on Mom's lap. She only cries when Mom does. So, Mom doesn't.
It wasn't always so.
Off to Omaha at birth
Carrie Cordova was one week overdue when Bailey Kay was born at the hospital in Cherokee Jan. 10, 2001. Five hours after her birth, doctors noticed Bailey grunting with every breath. Upon finding the oxygen level in her blood was low, they summoned a pediatrician from St. Luke's Regional Medical Center in Sioux City. Dr. Thomas Wilson flew out and redirected the flight to the University of Nebraska Medical Center in Omaha as it headed out of Cherokee.
"Her condition was deteriorating," says Carrie, who was left behind in Cherokee with Chris and older siblings Breanna and Andrew.
At 2 a.m. the Cordovas were called and informed that Bailey had congenital heart disease.
"She was born with a bad heart," her mother says.
Carrie was dismissed from the hospital one day later and the family drove en masse to Omaha to have Bailey baptized and to take photos. Bailey had two IVs in her head, one in her foot, one in her hand and a breathing tube down her throat. They covered part of her head for the photos.
"She wasn't breathing on her own," Carrie remembers. The family had to leave and drive back.
Five days later, doctors placed a shunt in her heart to keep blood going through a valve. It was a success. Five weeks later, doctors hooked a part of her intestine to her liver because a bile duct was scarred shut, causing jaundice. It, too, was successful.
Carrie and Chris learned CPR and were allowed to bring Bailey home at the age of eight weeks.
At nine months, she needed another surgery, called hemi fontan surgery to hook vessels in the top half of her body to her heart.
"She only has three heart chambers," Carrie says. "They were trying to build up the fourth."
Doctors did when Bailey turned 3.
This year, she has battled a bile duct infection and elevated blood clotting levels. She received a transfusion of Vitamin K and frozen plasma. She has blood work twice each month and remains on antibiotics.
"She's doing good," Mom says, picking out a puzzle featuring puppies. "Her jaundice is going away."
And late this month, the entire family -- will go away -- to the West Coast.
"We've been told it would be time for a heart and liver transplant within the year," says Carrie.
The family waits and hopes. They celebrate the emergence of a 5-year molar that shows Bailey is growing. They give thanks to be around a caring community and surrounded by an extended family. Coworkers at Wells Dairy raised $2,000 for the Cordovas in 12 days not long ago. Mike Wells matched that amount. When Chris' coworkers at Quad County Corn Processors of Galva heard about Bailey's upcoming trek to California, they began planning Sunday's benefit.
The Cordovas and Bailey will be there to thank their friends, neighbors and people they've never met.
Bailey will be the one coloring or putting a puzzle together. Look for the big blue eyes and the hesitant smile. She'll be tracing letter N's on her paper, having already done the kindergarten unit on letter M.
It stands for miracle.
"We believe in miracles here," Carrie says. "Bailey is our miracle."
Bailey Benefit
A benefit dinner for Bailey Kay Cordova will be held 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. Sunday at Veterans Memorial Hall in Holstein, Iowa. Donations may also be directed to: Bailey Kay Cordova Fund, c/o American National Bank, P.O. Box 370, Holstein, Iowa 51025.
Then I hit the road for Cherokee, where I met another little girl. Bailey Cordova, youngest daughter of Chris and Carrie Cordova, skips like my Sally. She plays with dolls and puts together puzzles on her Dora the Explorer table. She loves puppies and purple, in that order. B is her favorite letter.
She's the 5-year-old girl next door, pedaling her bike, teasing older siblings.
The difference: Bailey hasn't been to school yet. She needs a new heart. And a new liver. Her mother calls her the family miracle and can't wait to photograph Bailey on her graduation day.
But she isn't taking it for granted. When your baby is sick, you don't.
"We want to make her life the best experience possible," says Carrie, stroking Bailey's blonde hair. "If she's gone next year, at least I'll know I tried to make her life the best I could."
Mom delivers the statement with a mix of resignation, confidence and defiance.
"We've had to face things no parent with a 5-year-old should have to face," Carrie says. "I'd love to see her on her graduation day. But for now, we're just going to love her as much as we can. We don't know what the future holds."
The future holds this much: The Cordovas head to California at the end of the month for testing to determine if Bailey qualifies for a heart and liver transplant. Residents around Cherokee, Galva and Le Mars will pitch in by hosting a benefit dinner from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Sunday at Veterans Memorial Hall in Holstein. Freewill donations will help defray travel expenses. The family is insured.
While it would be easier to fly, they insist on driving. It's Bailey's first field trip.
"We are taking the whole family to California," says Carrie. "Bailey is on oxygen at night, so we'll load up her oxygen tanks, all three kids and take off. Bailey has never been anywhere but Iowa or Nebraska. We want her to see the mountains."
Upon arriving at Lucille Packard Children's Hospital at Stanford University, the family will learn how advanced Bailey's single left ventricle heart disease and biliary arteritis liver disease have become.
"We'll find out where they might place her on a waiting list," says Carrie.
In the meantime, they keep all eyes on Bailey, making her as comfy as can be.
"I haven't worked in six weeks," says Carrie, who toils on a production line making ice cream cones at Wells Dairy in Le Mars. "I've been at home playing with Bailey and making sure she does her school work. Mrs. Lux, the kindergarten teacher, sent a packet to us and told us they're working on the letter N. So, we've been practicing our Ns."
Bailey colors, says her ABCs and counts to 15. A lefty, she tries time and again to print a capital B perfectly.
She labors while breathing, her eyes a bit yellow. She naps when tired and lays on Mom's lap. She only cries when Mom does. So, Mom doesn't.
It wasn't always so.
Off to Omaha at birth
Carrie Cordova was one week overdue when Bailey Kay was born at the hospital in Cherokee Jan. 10, 2001. Five hours after her birth, doctors noticed Bailey grunting with every breath. Upon finding the oxygen level in her blood was low, they summoned a pediatrician from St. Luke's Regional Medical Center in Sioux City. Dr. Thomas Wilson flew out and redirected the flight to the University of Nebraska Medical Center in Omaha as it headed out of Cherokee.
"Her condition was deteriorating," says Carrie, who was left behind in Cherokee with Chris and older siblings Breanna and Andrew.
At 2 a.m. the Cordovas were called and informed that Bailey had congenital heart disease.
"She was born with a bad heart," her mother says.
Carrie was dismissed from the hospital one day later and the family drove en masse to Omaha to have Bailey baptized and to take photos. Bailey had two IVs in her head, one in her foot, one in her hand and a breathing tube down her throat. They covered part of her head for the photos.
"She wasn't breathing on her own," Carrie remembers. The family had to leave and drive back.
Five days later, doctors placed a shunt in her heart to keep blood going through a valve. It was a success. Five weeks later, doctors hooked a part of her intestine to her liver because a bile duct was scarred shut, causing jaundice. It, too, was successful.
Carrie and Chris learned CPR and were allowed to bring Bailey home at the age of eight weeks.
At nine months, she needed another surgery, called hemi fontan surgery to hook vessels in the top half of her body to her heart.
"She only has three heart chambers," Carrie says. "They were trying to build up the fourth."
Doctors did when Bailey turned 3.
This year, she has battled a bile duct infection and elevated blood clotting levels. She received a transfusion of Vitamin K and frozen plasma. She has blood work twice each month and remains on antibiotics.
"She's doing good," Mom says, picking out a puzzle featuring puppies. "Her jaundice is going away."
And late this month, the entire family -- will go away -- to the West Coast.
"We've been told it would be time for a heart and liver transplant within the year," says Carrie.
The family waits and hopes. They celebrate the emergence of a 5-year molar that shows Bailey is growing. They give thanks to be around a caring community and surrounded by an extended family. Coworkers at Wells Dairy raised $2,000 for the Cordovas in 12 days not long ago. Mike Wells matched that amount. When Chris' coworkers at Quad County Corn Processors of Galva heard about Bailey's upcoming trek to California, they began planning Sunday's benefit.
The Cordovas and Bailey will be there to thank their friends, neighbors and people they've never met.
Bailey will be the one coloring or putting a puzzle together. Look for the big blue eyes and the hesitant smile. She'll be tracing letter N's on her paper, having already done the kindergarten unit on letter M.
It stands for miracle.
"We believe in miracles here," Carrie says. "Bailey is our miracle."
Bailey Benefit
A benefit dinner for Bailey Kay Cordova will be held 11 a.m. to 1 p.m. Sunday at Veterans Memorial Hall in Holstein, Iowa. Donations may also be directed to: Bailey Kay Cordova Fund, c/o American National Bank, P.O. Box 370, Holstein, Iowa 51025.
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