I come from a family of physicians. My father, Professor Leo Bockeria, is a world-renowned heart surgeon. My mother, Dr. Olga Bockeria, devoted her life to internal medicine. Medicine was the language of my childhood, the mission of my family, and the path I chose for myself.

But nothing in my training prepared me for what motherhood would teach me.

I was pregnant with twins when I learned that my son had a life‑threatening congenital condition. At 20 weeks of pregnancy, my gynecologist suggested terminating both twins—“taking everything off,” as she said—because saving one twin while losing the other would be emotionally and medically complicated.

In that moment, something primal awakened in me. A shield that every mother carries, once she knows she is pregnant. I did not listen. I refused. I chose to fight for both children.

My son’s condition was so severe that when he was born, he would not have survived transport to another surgical center. Only the extraordinary coordination of doctors and the relentless efforts of my family made it possible for him to be operated on within one hour of birth, in the same hospital. That hour decided his life.

I know what it means to wait outside an operating room with your newborn inside. I know what it means to live between terror and hope. This experience forever shaped my compassion for families facing congenital conditions—both in newborns and in adults who live with these diagnoses every day.

After that, I experienced what medicine calls a missed miscarriage—a frozen pregnancy.
When the doctors told me the fetus had stopped developing, they spoke clinically, almost dismissively:

“It happens. Many women go through this.”

But for me, it was devastating. The emotional crash, the hormonal storm, the emptiness—no one prepared me for that. No one truly understood that pain. I carried it alone, and for more than a year, I lived with depression and grief that felt invisible. That silence is something I will never forget.

Later, during the birth of one of my daughters, I faced death myself. An accidental overdose of epidural anesthesia—followed by an overdose of the antidote—caused my heart rate to drop to 15 beats per minute. I lost consciousness. I stopped breathing. I had to be resuscitated. When I woke up, my baby had already been born. I missed her first cry. I was young. Healthy. My pregnancy had been uncomplicated. And yet, in seconds, everything collapsed. That moment changed me forever.

These experiences—my son’s fight for life, pregnancy loss, and my own near‑death condition made me see women and families differently. Not as cases, not as statistics—but as human beings walking through unimaginable vulnerability.

I Founded Heart&Hope Bockeria Foundation For:

• Mothers carrying babies with congenital conditions
• Families fighting for newborns born critically ill
• Women grieving pregnancy loss
• Women facing high‑risk pregnancies
• Adults living with congenital diseases who are often forgotten

We exist to bring science, advocacy, emotional support, and hope where silence and fear once existed.

Because every mother deserves to be protected.
Every child deserves a chance.
And every heart deserves hope.