Scents and Memories

By Kim Rooks

Kim and Taylor after one of Taylor's
open-heart surgeries.

I think it’s interesting how a scent can take you back to the very day when you first smelled it, and how you can remember exactly what you were doing that day.

I washed my hands at the Shands cardiology clinic the other day and the soap is the same as one I used almost nine years ago, when I had to wash my hands before I could go see my baby girl for the first time in the Shands Level III Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Taylor was 6 pounds, 9 ounces, with a heart rate of 60. 

Who knew the road we have traveled would bring fear, sadness, frustration, confusion and happiness. But most of all, it has brought family and friends closer, and introduced me to people I would never have met if we didn’t travel this road.

Taylor with her pediatric cardiologist, F. Jay Fricker.

Recently, our pediatric cardiologist, Dr. Jay Fricker, said something I thought I would never hear. 

In the past, he has said he doesn’t know what Taylor’s future holds. But that day, he said he thinks Taylor will be fine, and the only issue we will have to deal with is with her pacemakers. 

I'm so happy for our baby steps of miracles that she has had in her life. God makes things happen for a reason and we will never know why.

Kim Rooks is the mother of Taylor, who is now 9 years old. Kim is co-founder and co-executive director of Broken Hearts of the Big Bend. By day, she works with the Greater Southeast Affiliate of the American Heart Association. By evening, she is an independent consultant for several product lines. Taylor was born with congenitally corrected transposition of the greater arteries (meaning not only were her greater arteries reversed, but her ventricles were, too), a large ventricular septal defect and complete heart block. By the time she was 5 months old, she’d had a double-arterial switch, her VSD closed, and a pacemaker implanted. In all, Taylor has had more than 10 heart surgeries in her life, including two open-heart procedures. Today, she is thriving.

Child with Health Condition Changes Life's Perspective

By Laura Pearson


During a routine ultrasound during my 25th week of pregnancy, my obstetrician was concerned when he was able to detect only my heartbeat. Another ultrasound showed my son’s heart was beating only 48 beats per minute. The average heart rate of an unborn baby is between 120 and 160 bpm. Immediately, I was sent to Shands Hospital at the University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida, where I saw an obstetrician who specializes in high-risk pregnancies.


Doctors determined I had Sjogren’s Syndrome, an autoimmune disease similar to lupus, and my unborn son, Cody, had complete heart block. After that, I received weekly shots of the steroid, betamethasone, to mature his lungs for an early delivery. Eight weeks before my due date, Cody developed congestive heart failure and I had an emergency Caesarean section at Shands.

Cody’s been a fighter from the start and only had to stay in the hospital for 16 days. We were sent home with instructions about how to watch for signs of congestive heart failure. That occurred within his first year and he had a pacemaker implanted when he was 10 months old. Cody is 15 now and has had four pacemakers. He is doing great. Now that he’s 15, he’s anxious to start driving. Although he’s not allowed to play major contact sports, he has played Little League baseball, soccer, and basketball. He loves video games and hanging out with friends.

In the beginning, I asked “why” almost every day. Eventually, I answered that question with “So I can help others so they don’t feel as alone as I have.” Guilt played a nasty trick on me that first year. After I kicked it to the curb, I set boundaries for both of us.


First, Cody would grow up believing he was no different from any other child. That may sound easy, but in reality, it’s extremely hard. They want you to feel sorry for them and it’s so easy to do so when you look at that angelic face and think how unfair life is.


So, to make it work, however, you have to resist the urge. Cuddle them for the regular scrapes, boo-boos and disappointments, but stiffen your spine when they put a hand over their heart and say things like, “My pacemaker hurts.”


No, don’t ignore your child when this happens (far from it). But instead of freaking out or melting into a pool of fear, respond to them the way “typical” moms do with children who complain about a stomach ache. After you’ve determined there’s no reason to call Lifeflight, then, if you feel like, you may go to your room and cry.


Having a child with a congenital heart condition has a way of changing your whole perspective on life. I wonder sometimes who I would be today if Cody had been born healthy. I’ll never know, but I do know that I’m a much stronger person of spirit, mind and body. It’s toughened me up, which is a good thing, and made me very aware of just how precious life is.