Just so you don't go in with rose colored glasses, I was a single mom at 23. My daughter was born with an autosomal recessive genetic birth defect that no one in my family even knew was a thing (the disease was identified in 1967) even though we had had several random relatives die because of it...they just didn't know what it was.

She was diagnosed at 3 weeks and I was told she was not expected to live without a transplant. The first 3 years of her life were a living hell. I did nothing other than care for her and take her to endless doctors. Alone. By myself. I spent every waking minute of her first year believing I would wake up to find her dead in her crib. She was on super expensive special formula. She had to take phenobarbital which worked opposite on her, keeping her awake and screaming. She was in newborn diapers until she was 7 months old. Her physical development was set back months because she was so ill.

I'm telling you, it was a nightmare and nothing prepared me for it. I was her only source of care and her only advocate with doctors and specialists who bled her dry, picked, pricked, biopsied, restrained and starved her.

She's in her mid 30's now and relatively healthy, although her life expectancy is 50.

Would I do it again? No, I would not...even knowing and loving her. I would not put her or me through it.