She needed the tools to fix Mommy's heart. (Nothing wrong with my heart, but since I've been sick for so long, she just assumed it must be my heart.) She used the screw driver, the pliers, and hammer to work on my heart. Then she declared "You're all better!"
Having a child with a CHD is like being given an extra sense---the true ability to appreciate life. Each breath, each hug, each meal is a blessing when you've watched your child live off a ventilator, trapped in an ICU bed, being fed through a tube. Each minute is a miracle when you've watched your child almost die and come back to you.