Every gift from your heart means another hour for Gitty!

I didn’t sleep last night.

Or the night before, or the night before that.

Every night, I go to bed exhausted and wait for sleep to envelop me.

But it doesn’t.

I can’t go to sleep knowing that this might be Gitty’s last night.

And when I awaken, she’ll be gone.
 

My beautiful little Gitty is only 2 months old.

She was born with a heart defect that’s so rare that even the top cardiac specialists in Boston don’t want to operate due to her minimal chances of survival.

On the outside, she’s a beautiful, darling, smiley baby with bright blue eyes and delicate features.

But inside, she’s so sick and weak, and every minute of life is a struggle for her failing heart.

The medical specialists we’ve consulted recommended a special treatment that’s not covered by any insurance. The costs are astronomical, but it’s the only thing keeping little Gitty alive.

The doctors explained that if she survives the next few months, her chances of living to adulthood are much higher.

Gitty is only 2 months old, and I can’t go back to work because I’m constantly running back and forth with her between hospitals and clinics. She’s also in a far too delicate state to send her to a babysitter, because even a slight infection is life-threatening.

During the days and nights that I’m in the hospital with Gitty, my husband is taking care of our two preschoolers, so even he can’t work regularly now.

That’s why, aside from the all-consuming fear for Gitty’s life, we’re also drowning trying to cover our rent, food and basics.

Two months ago, Gitty’s siblings gave out candies in school on the day she was born, and they’ve barely seen her since!

On the rare occasions when she’s home, they mournfully ask me why she doesn’t stay longer? She’s so tiny and sweet, why doesn’t she ever stay? Why am I barely home?

What can I say?

That I wish, more than anything in the world, that we could both come home and be together again?

That I never dreamed we’d be living this nightmare, davening just to survive another hour and another day?

Dear Friends!

Your help can save Gitty’s life! Your support is the only thing that will save her life!

I’m reaching out to you with a mother’s desperate plea to save my daughter’s life, and Hashem should grant that you should always be among the givers of our nation.

Please daven for Gittel bas Rochel.

b’soch sha’ar cholei Yisrael.

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