My daughter has a heart condition.

Faith.

She does.

It's not a surprise to us.

Truth is, Jenna and I knew there was a strong possibility of this before we even began to start the process of adoption. It was there in black and white, right in the letters on our computer screen beneath her name and the photo we fell in love with. It read quite clearly, "... possible VSD, ASD or other heart condition...".

And we still said okay. It didn't scare us. Well... that's not true. I should say rather, that it didn't scare Jenna. Not badly anyway. And then somewhere along the line she finally convinced me that I shouldn't be afraid either. Especially since there was no way to really know until we talked to a doctor. Which we did today... and now we know for sure.

I know we said from the beginning that upon the advice of our friends and family, we would be careful to trust too quickly the opinion of any doctor or medical professional outside of the United States. However, we were able to meet today with the pediatrician who oversees all of the children in the orphanage, and he seemed incredibly knowledgeable and gave us a ton of very forthcoming information. He shared with us the most recent test results for our daughter, from just a couple months ago, and gave us a full medical history of everything he knew and all that was in her charts. It was clear Dr. Karpulitz knew what he was talking about, and so we felt confident walking away with the diagnosis he gave us.

Tetralogy of Fallot.

And if I ever thought cardiomyopathy was confusing, which I did at first, well, this diagnosis takes the cake on confusion. Cardiomyopathy is nothing compared to all that goes into explaining the condition our daughter suffers from. Not to say that I couldn't try, but I won't try... at least not in any detailed kind of manner. Suffice it to say that the doctor explained to us that our daughter has at least one hole in her heart, at least. More likely two. And that at this point the valve that carries blood from her heart to her lungs is incredibly narrow, which means that her lungs don't always get the amount of healthy oxygenated blood that they need, which isn't good. He told us that often, children with Tetrology of Fallot appear cyanotic, or bluish in color, and have to be careful not to over-exert themselves because of this. He mentioned, he said, only to prepare us for when we finally do get to meet her. He said that a calming environment will be best for Faith at least in the beginning.

It was all hard to hear. I mean, it's hard enough just to hear that your child actually has a heart condition... but then to know and have to accept the fact that our child is really quite sick and we can't just go straight to her and take her home right now and make everything okay for her... that really, really sucks. And that wasn't all of it either. Then Doctor Karpulitz informed us that Faith has been hospitalized twice in her short lifetime for pnuemonia. All I could think of the entire time the doctor was discussing her experiences during those hospitalizations (low blood oxygen levels, breathing treatments, etc...) was that no child should ever have to go through any of that without a parent to comfort them and let them know that everything will be okay. And hopefully, very soon, Faith would never have to go through any of it alone again.

The last thing he told us before we left was how incredibly important it will be for Faith to see a cardiologist as soon as we touch down in the states. How important it will be for her to have surgery very soon after arriving home... and how awesome she should do afterwards... how her life will be completely different and so, so much better. I smiled and grabbed Jenna's hand where she sat beside me, knowing that Jenna had spent hours upon hours on the phone since the very moment we received our travel date setting up appointments with every imaginable type of doctor.

Jenna had been prepared.

Have I mentioned yet that without my wife I would be completely lost in all of this? It's true. I don't think I would have ever thought to make those appointments so far in advance without knowing. And I definitely wouldn't have thought to ask our translator this morning as Jenna did first thing, if it was possible to meet with Faith's doctor here in the Ukraine. It's like for the most part I'm just along for the ride and Jenna is leading the way. And the waiting is killing me, especially because I feel so helpless to do anything to help. Not that this isn't killing Jenna too. I can tell she's exhausted, both mentally and physically. We both are.

We finally arrived last night after an all day train ride, to the tiny village outside of Kharkev where Faith's orphanage is located. And just so you know, I consider myself a pretty seasoned traveler. I know all of you are probably thinking 'No shit Nick, tell us something we didn't know', but really... there is a point here -- I mean, I have spent the better part of my life, 22 years to be exact if you consider I'm 35 now and I was 13 when I joined the Backstreet Boys, traveling all over the world. My wife on the other hand... not so much. She has been to Europe. The end. No, seriously, with the exception of our honeymoon to Europe, life has simply had other plans, and circumstances beyond either of our control has kept us from ever traveling together, until now.

All this to say that with as un-traveled as my wife is and even with as well traveled as I am, I don't think either of us could possibly have been prepared for where this journey has taken us. The week in Kiev that taxed us both of energy and the train ride that was long and draining and now this new adventure. We decided months ago that we would take the same route as other adoptive families in this region and stay in the village in a small apartment rather than travel a couple hours to and from the city every day to visit our daughter. It just seemed right. We should, fingers, toes and every other body part crossed, be meeting Faith tomorrow, and after that we want to be as close as we can be for the next few weeks until we can take her home. We don't want to have to take a taxi from the city every single day. We want to be able to do what other families have done, which is to walk a couple blocks to the orphanage to visit Faith two or three times throughout the days. We want to spend as much time as possible with our baby girl. We want to get to know her and love her... and we want to do that even if it means giving up the luxury of the five star hotels we're used to, in the comfort of the big cities with the fancy restaurants and shopping malls, for the tiny apartment we checked into last night.

It was strange though... strange walking into that apartment, it's ugly linoleum floors with the bedspread that didn't even begin to match the window curtains, the wallpaper that could have been from the 1920's and a counch that looked even older. Then there was the kitchen with the tiny refrigerator and two range stove and the bathroom with the shower that even I wouldn't stand in barefoot and the toilet that Jenna refuses to sit on... strange that a man like me who has spent most of his entire life staying in the most expensive suites in five star hotels could take it all in and in that moment, be incredibly grateful for it. I think that was the moment I realized that this journey has changed me in ways I never could have imagined. It's made me appreciate and value things so much more.

This afternoon after our morning visit with Dr. Karpulitz, we finally visited the orphanage. We couldn't go in of course because we don't have the proper credentials yet. Soon... just not yet. But we still stopped by to see the place where our daughter has spent the past 15 months of her life. The place that hopefully we'll take her out of in the next couple of weeks. It wasn't like I'd expected, and I don't know exactly how to explain that. Not that I'd necessarily thought the building would be some delapidated prison or something... not that I'm sure exactly what I'd expected, even after seeing pictures on other family's sites, but it looked a lot like an elementary school building looks like in the US, or a library, or just, you know any random small public building. There were no bars on the windows or barbed wire fences surrounding the property. Nothing to signify the magnitude of the lives that the children inside are forced to live. In fact, there was a very nice playground where several children were playing while caregivers looked on. Other caregivers and some individuals who were likely adoptive parents were taking smaller babies for walks in strollers. The fences that lined the property were colorful and bright. You wouldn't necessarily know, if you didn't know that this was the kind of place it really was.

But we knew better.

We knew that the chances of our daughter having ever seen the sunlight or playing on that playground or being strolled down the colorful fenced lined sidewalks, were slim. We knew that children in Faith's condition were not cared for the way that other, "normal" children were. We knew that most often children like Faith got left in cribs for the majority of the day, only taken out for feeding and changing, with little to do and no one to cuddle and comfort them. Their emotional needs most often went unmet and their cries more often than not, unanswered... and it wasn't because no one cared, it was mostly because the caregivers hands were too full or because they didn't know how to give the proper kind of care that children like Faith really needed. The kind of care we planned on giving her very soon.

After we left the orphanage we walked around for several hours, just trying to waste some time. The surrounding village wasn't much different from the orphanage. Not quite what I'd expected... not bad... just different. The houses were old and colorful, clothes hanging on lines outside. The streets were long narrow country roads, filled with potholes, which didn't seem to matter much because most people walked or rode bikes. There were small markets here and there where meat and vegetables were sold and where we bought our bottled water to cook the dinner of Ramen noodles we plan on having tonight here in our apartment. There were few buildings larger than small houses and the only thing that really stood out in the tiny community was a soccer facility located right next door to the orphanage. This stood out in stark contrast, surrounded by a large chain link fence, an area filled with sprawling homes and lush fields where the team practiced daily. It was kind of sad actually, knowing that such a wealthy population could live right next to something so sad and not seem to notice at all.

I thought about that as we walked along on the quiet streets all the way back to the apartment... about how I hoped in my life, as fortunate as I'd been in fame and celebrity, that at least along the way I'd showed my heart by helping others. That if nothing else, in the end at least I could do enough good that no one would think of me as a person who built fences up around my life just large enough to block out the view of the world around me.

We've been back to the apartment for an hour now... Jenna is cooking our Ramen noodles on the stove and I'm hanging out on the old tattered sofa looking up as much info as I can find about Tetralogy of Fallot online. I sent an email to Brian when we first got home;

Hey B,

Well Bri, it looks like we officially have the newest member of the Healthy Heart Club on our hands. We were able to meet with the doctor this morning and found out that Faith has definitely been diagnosed with some pretty significant heart issues. Nothing that can't be taken care of with surgery... but still pretty damn crazy. I'm simultaneously at peace with the fact that I know we've got some of the greatest doctors at home... and absolutely scared to death.

We visited the orphanage today... just the outside. It wasn't too horrible. I'm just ready to get our baby and come home.

We miss everyone so much... tell Baylee we said good luck in his tournament this weekend and we're sorry we can't be there.

We should get to meet our girl tomorrow and then we'll of course send a much more detailed email!

Nick

... and Brian just messaged me back.

"Hey Jenna," I holler to where she's slaving over the hot stove in her t-shirt and my boxer shorts, dancing to "Don't Stop Believing" on her Ipod. I laugh as I drink up the sight of her and smile because at least it's good to know that one of us still has a sense of humor in all of this.

She turns and catches me smiling at her and laughs, smiling back with a wink.

"You wanna come read B-rok's email with me?" I ask and she nods, turning off the music before walking over and curling up on the couch next to me as I lay the laptop between us and we read together;

Hey Nick (and Jenn too)!

We're sorry to hear about Faith's heart... but you're right about the fact that we have the best doctor's here. Leighanne and I are gonna get to work immediately to make sure you guys get the absolute best of the best. I know you're scared man... but don't let your fears make these moments any less precious or special. Save your fears for when you can get home and really take care of them. In the meantime just know that our thoughts and prayers are with you guys and we can't wait until you to get back with our beautiful new niece so that we can meet her and fill her up on lots of love!

Things are good here at home. The house is being well taken care of and Leighanne told me to tell you to tell Jenna (you get the point) that she peeked in on the nursery when she stopped by yesterday to let the dogs out and she was IM-pressed! Apparently it's beautiful and you have one lucky little girl to get to hang out in it.

Anyway bro, Good luck tomorrow, we'll be with you in spirit and in prayer.

Send pictures as soon as you can and let us know how everything goes!

We love you guys!

Brian

P.S. -- Baylee said thank you.

P.P.S -- Jay just called to let us know they're inducing Rochelle on Monday the 22nd and to "pass it on"... looks like Backstreet Baby #7 will be here pretty soon! Hopefully just in time to welcome Backstreet Baby #6 home to Florida!

I close my computer and smile at my wife who smiles back at me.

"I can't wait to get this girl home to meet all of her crazy uncles," Jenna whispers as she stands up and walks back over to the stove, lifting the bowls of noodles she prepared and bringing them over to the coffee table. She hands me mine and sits back down beside me.

"Me neither babe... me neither."

And I realize it then... that even though the last few days... well really the entire last two weeks that we've spent here in the Ukraine have made me miss home more than I've ever missed it before, they've also made me appreciate the mundaneness of what has become my everyday life recently. I miss waking up in my bed and reading my morning paper with a nice hot cup of coffee. I miss my friends and my family. I miss my dogs. I miss washing the car and watching tv. I miss microwave pizza and gatorade and the smell of fresh cut summer grass.

All the things I used to miss when we were on tour... I miss them right now like crazy. But I appreciate them oh so much more.

And I'm totally okay with missing all of that for now if it means making a better future for Faith.