In the glow of new parenthood, few moments rival the pure elation of cradling a healthy baby for the first time. But for Kayleigh McEnany, the former White House Press Secretary turned Fox News co-host, that joy has been eclipsed by a parent’s worst fear: watching her tiniest child fight for every breath in a sterile hospital room. On August 12, 2025, just weeks after welcoming her third daughter, Avery Grace, into the world on June 30, McEnany broke down in tears on air, her voice cracking as she revealed the unimaginable diagnosis that has turned their family home into a revolving door of medical emergencies.

Avery, the 4.5-pound miracle born to McEnany and her husband, former MLB pitcher Sean Gilmartin, arrived amid fanfare and faith-filled announcements. McEnany, ever the picture of poised resilience—having navigated breast cancer scares, a BRCA2 mutation, and the high-stakes spotlight of the Trump administration—shared ultrasound glimpses and biblical verses like Psalm 139 on social media, celebrating the “knit me together in my mother’s womb” wonder. Her older children, Blake (8) and Nash (6), beamed with sibling excitement, doting on their baby sister in those first hazy days of summer. “We’re soaking in every precious moment,” she posted, her words a beacon of gratitude amid her bustling life as a co-host on Outnumbered and host of Saturday in America.

But beneath the surface, alarm bells rang early. Avery’s tiny frame, already petite at birth, struggled to regulate her body temperature, spiking fevers that no blanket could tame. What began as routine check-ups spiraled into a barrage of tests, scans, and IV drips. Doctors delivered the gut-wrenching news: a rare congenital disorder, likely a form of transient abnormal myelopoiesis or a metabolic anomaly tied to her low birth weight, demanding constant hospitalization. This elusive condition, affecting fewer than 1 in 10,000 newborns, triggers erratic immune responses and organ stress, confining Avery to neonatal intensive care units (NICUs) across Florida facilities. She’s been in and out of hospitals for over two months now, her cries muffled by monitors, her parents’ world reduced to beeping machines and whispered prayers.

McEnany’s raw vulnerability hit millions when she choked up during a live segment on Outnumbered. “I can’t believe this is happening to our family,” she confessed, dabbing at her eyes as co-hosts offered silent hugs. The poised pundit, who once fielded White House firestorms with unyielding facts, now grapples with the helplessness of a mother’s love clashing against medical uncertainty. Sean, her rock through career whirlwinds and personal trials—including his own pivot from baseball to family man—has shouldered night shifts, reading bedtime stories to Blake and Nash via FaceTime while Avery fights.

This ordeal echoes McEnany’s own health battles; diagnosed with the BRCA2 gene in her Georgetown days, she delayed a preventive double mastectomy for a decade, fearing it would derail her dreams of love and motherhood. “Tears poured down as I told my family,” she later wrote in her memoir For Such a Time as This. Now, history repeats in reverse: the woman who conquered her risks watches her daughter battle an invisible foe. Faith anchors her—daily devotions, community prayers from fellow Fox anchors like Harris Faulkner—but the toll is evident. Sleepless nights blur into advocacy pleas, urging awareness for rare pediatric conditions that claim too many young lives undetected.

As November 2025 dawns, Avery’s prognosis remains a fragile thread: treatments like specialized antibiotics and temperature-regulating therapies offer hope, but relapses lurk. McEnany’s story isn’t just celebrity sorrow; it’s a stark reminder of rare diseases’ grip on 300 million people worldwide, per global health estimates, where U.S. families like hers navigate a labyrinth of insurance battles and experimental protocols. “We’re fighting with everything we’ve got,” she posted recently, a photo of Avery’s dimpled hand clutching hers. Yet in the quiet hours, doubt creeps: Will her baby girl’s laughter fill their home, or will hospital corridors become the new normal?

McEnany’s tears aren’t for pity—they’re a call to compassion. In a divided world, her unfiltered pain unites us, humanizing the headlines. As she balances TV spotlights with NICU vigils, one truth endures: motherhood’s fiercest battles forge unbreakable bonds. Avery Grace may be small, but her spirit—and her mother’s—shines as a testament to endurance. Hold on, little one; dawn breaks for warriors like you.