"My Daughter Contracted a Flesh-Eating Bacteria, and Her Condition Rapidly Deteriorated"

When Shira Hasson's eldest daughter contacted her to say that their little baby wasn't feeling well, Shira wasn't alarmed. As a mother of seven, she knew how to handle such situations and trusted her daughter to look after the baby until she got home. But nothing could prepare her for a scenario more complex than any other illness.

Unable to Relax

Shira provides some background: "My husband Yoav and I returned to religious observance years ago, and since then, we've always tried to strengthen ourselves and fulfill our purpose in this world. For years, I worked at Hadassah Academic College, deriving much satisfaction from my job. As a baalat teshuva, I felt I was able to influence my surroundings from that position. However, when my sixth daughter was born, an inner voice told me that my work at the college might come at the expense of my home and children. Additionally, the sixth birth was very difficult — there was a placental abruption, and it ended in an emergency surgery. It was a miracle that the baby and I survived, but I felt it was a sign from heaven — it was time for a change. Thus, motherhood took precedence over my career, leading me to leave the college in favor of bridal counseling, eventually resulting in the establishment of a private clinic focusing on couples therapy, CBT, and other treatments."

Shira notes that during this time, her seventh daughter, Tamar Yehudit, was born. "I was very happy the birth went smoothly this time, with nothing out of the ordinary. We were discharged home and settled into routine. Nothing prepared us for the trauma awaiting Tamar Yehudit at four months old."

She revisits the unimaginable story: "It was the day before Lag BaOmer. My husband and I attended a parent meeting at our sons' school and left our eldest daughter Amit Rachel, who was 15 at the time, to watch the baby. Amit is mature, responsible, cool-headed, and not at all hysterical. That's why I was surprised when she called during our return to report that Tamar Yehudit wasn't feeling well and seemed to have a fever.

"I assured Amit that we'd be home soon but didn't panic. When I got home, I saw that Tamar Yehudit was warm and didn't look well. I fed and comforted her, and she fell asleep, but then I noticed that something was wrong with her breathing. As it was late at night and the clinic was closed, I took her to Terem. We waited a long time; eventually, the doctors examined her and said, 'It's fine, probably viral.'"

"We returned home at five in the morning, and I noticed the fever rising again. Unable to relax, I called our family doctor at seven in the morning — just a few days earlier, providence had gifted me her private number. The doctor answered and advised returning to Terem to request a chest X-ray, which thankfully came out normal. Finally, I could breathe a little easier."

"I Yelled: 'Call the Doctor!'"

When Shira got home, her wonderful mother was waiting. "My mom realized I hadn’t slept all night, so she took the day off to watch Tamar Yehudit, allowing me to rest. I remember plunging into sleep, exhausted. When I awoke a few hours later, I felt strange — why hadn’t my baby demanded food? But Mom explained she was sleeping the whole time. The fears returned. I picked up Tamar Yehudit and decided to change her diaper to wake her. As I undressed her, I noticed something alarming: three small blood spots on her foot, resembling the marks after a blood test when the needle is removed. Then came the panic, as I yelled: 'Call the doctor!' No one understood my urgency, but the doctor did, immediately instructing us: 'Get to the ER.'

Blood spots that appeared on Tamar Yehudit's foot

"We hesitated not a moment. We live five minutes from Shaare Zedek, and within moments we were at the hospital. Initially, they received us calmly, took the baby's metrics, and asked us to wait. But then, a nurse noticed something, called over a doctor, and together they observed Tamar Yehudit, who was completely limp. It became apparent that the blood spots on her foot were appearing elsewhere—on her legs, nose, and ear.

"Another doctor was called, and suddenly more and more doctors arrived, announcing they needed to take the baby for tests. My husband and I stood aside, not understanding what was happening. Finally, a doctor took us aside and said: 'Mom and Dad, we want to explain what's happening — we're trying to stabilize your daughter with a boost of medication to prevent organ failure. We're transferring her to intensive care for further treatment.'

"This sentence made it very clear just how dire Tamar Yehudit's situation was. Though I didn't fully comprehend, I knew the situation was grim. I also knew another thing — it was Lag BaOmer that night, and we needed everyone to pray for our Tamar Yehudit — at Meron and anywhere else. From that moment, I contacted anyone I could think of, disseminating her name for prayer. Attempts were made to reach out to rabbis and great leaders of Israel, beseeching them to tear open the gates of heaven with prayers. Her name, 'Tamar Yehudit bat Shiron,' spread everywhere, and we, too, sat and prayed."

As the hours passed, the situation became clearer, and doctors explained that the flesh-eating bacteria had reached the brain, causing meningitis. They weren't yet sure if the inflammation was viral or bacterial, but the damage could be severe, possibly irreversible, and there was no certainty Tamar Yehudit would recover.

"I remember sitting in the parents’ room, having an internal dialogue," says Shira. "An inner voice warned me: 'Prepare for the worst; don't let yourself be overly optimistic, lest you collapse.' But another voice insisted: 'Is anything too wonderful for Hashem? Hashem can do anything, work great miracles—we just need to pray and hope.' So I prayed and pleaded with the Master of the Universe. Eventually, they opened the ward's door and let us into Tamar Yehudit. We found her lying on a large bed, beautiful and stunning, swollen like a balloon from the medication, eyes closed, without reaction. That was the first time I understood what 'apathy' meant. For she simply didn't move or respond, and when I asked to feed her, the doctors looked at me with pity. It was clear she couldn't nurse; they wouldn’t even let me give her expressed milk, insisting only on food they were fully sure of its contents."

The next day, the results arrived, confirming it was indeed a dangerous bacteria causing the inflammation. "Fortunately, the doctors took no chances, starting antibiotics immediately upon our arrival, though they didn't know if the inflammation was bacterial—and now we just had to wait and see if she'd awaken and recover."

"From Shiron to Shira"

Meanwhile, Friday arrived, and Shira asked her husband to be with the kids at home over Shabbat, while she stayed with little Tamar at the hospital. "Before Shabbat, my husband came to visit us at the hospital, cautiously telling me he spoke with our rabbi, who prayed for 'Tamar Yehudit bat Shiron.' The rabbi then suggested that I change my name. I was surprised, knowing of cases where they change the patient's name or add another name, but I'd never heard of changing the mother's name. My husband asked if I'd agree, and I responded: 'I don't care what my name is, as long as my daughter recovers.' My husband went back to the rabbi, who suggested the name 'Shira.' I said, 'Amen, so it shall be.' Then, my husband returned home, and I stayed at the hospital with Tamar Yehudit. I remember during the candle lighting promising Hashem not to cry on Shabbat, as lamentation is forbidden, and indeed, I held back.

Tamar Yehudit: A Miracle Baby

"On Shabbat morning, my husband went to the hospital's synagogue, where during the Torah reading, he changed my name from Shiron to Shira. All that time, I remained by Tamar Yehudit’s bedside, not leaving for a moment. The doctors said there was no change—somewhat of a relief, as it could have worsened—yet it worried us greatly, for we had hoped something would change, that Tamar Yehudit would awake and respond.

"On Saturday night, I felt I needed rest, so I withdrew for a short respite in the parents’ room. When I awoke, I was in for a surprise — Tamar Yehudit had been moved from intensive care to the children's ward. It wasn't due to any specific improvement, but because a more critical case had arrived in intensive care, aligning with protocol to remove patients requiring the least supervision. We were grateful Tamar was no longer considered a severe case, continuing to pray and hope for a complete recovery."

Accelerated Recovery<

Shira recalls those subsequent hours as if they happened today. "I sat beside Tamar Yehudit's bed in the children's ward," she remembers, "when suddenly, I saw her eyes open and her limbs moving. From that moment, progress was rapid. I spoke to her, and she responded, moving her head and smiling. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The doctors were very excited, arriving one after another to witness the miracle, all awed by her knowing gaze and her responsiveness to her name. I felt like I was dreaming, recalling the dark forecasts from just two days earlier, realizing we had truly experienced a miracle."

From 5th Birthday, a Week Ago

Two weeks after her hospitalization, Tamar Yehudit was discharged, healthy and whole, with no signs of her ordeal. "But the story stays with me today," Shira says. "Of course, I'm now anxiously alarmed by every blemish on a child, but beyond that—the message of this story accompanies me constantly. Because I saw with my own eyes the tangible truth that 'Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is Hashem's will that prevails.' After all, Hashem alone decides our individual and special providence, and only He can save us.

"Since then, each time I face a challenge, I recall those days in the intensive care unit, feeling palpably in the hands of the Creator alone, and remind myself that nothing depends on me—my role is to pray, believe, and trust."