I am a heart mom.
I have felt, at a twenty-week ultrasound, floorboards cracking and giving way under my jumping, celebrating feet as the words Congratulations, it’s a girl were chased away all too quickly with There is something wrong with your baby’s heart.
I know the torment of wondering, wrestling, and combating a viscous voice that whispers…This is all my fault…
I know the pain of weeping in my husband’s arms after a baby shower, unsure if my baby would ever wear her new, pink clothes.
I am a heart mom.
I know the fear of labor pains in a cold room, deep groanings of the unknown drawing near.
I have given birth for an audience of doctors and nurses and students and fellows.
I have watched my baby–still wet and fresh–plucked from my arms and ushered to a Neonatal Intensive Care Unit where she would be sustained.
I have sat in a NICU with brittle, four-pound lives, warm under heat lamps like delicate plants, praying over my baby.
I have guarded my heart, afraid to love something I wasn’t so sure I could keep.
I am a heart mom.
I have held a baby with cords and wires and A-lines and tubes and all the while held my breath and my heart so it wouldn’t scrape.
I have pumped my milk throughout the night, throughout the day, in bathroom stalls, in parking lots, in dressing rooms, in public, in private, in the heat, in the cold…wishing I could give more than all that I had.
I have said goodbye to a daughter I just met so she could be delivered to a doctor who would stop her heart…in an attempt to make it whole.
I have endured waiting rooms painted white like faces bleached with fear.
A stomach that is so nervous it feels poisonous.
The shaking. The waiting. The surgery you can’t be there to control.
I am a heart mom.
I have felt the hand of a little life grab my finger and hold it…asking silently for me to lead her.
I have spent days that turn into nights on the seventh floor, all around me the Intensive Care Unit beeping and humming and pumping and upholding.
I have heard those sounds in my dreams.
I have sat in numb confusion while my baby lived…and the baby on the other side of the curtain didn’t.
I have questioned God and His goodness.
I have brought a baby home–so vulnerable and trusting–with a pulse-ox machine never far and CPR training notes posted high on the bulletin board.
I have sanitized people head to toe before letting them enter my home, missed Christmas parties, dinner parties, and birthday parties in fear of the germs in attendance.
I have nurtured a bruised baby with scars in vulnerable places.
I have awoken in the middle of the night to the frantic words, “I’m taking her to the Emergency Room.”
I have watched her heal and witnessed the miracle of recovery.
I have fed her her first bites of food.
Watched her take her first steps.
Say her first words.
I have leaned hard on God and He has proven Himself sturdy.
I have seen His grace.
I have tasted His love.
I am a heart mom.
And my world will never be the same.
***
To hear the whole story of our journey through our daughter’s three open-heart surgeries, go HERE or HERE to buy the book I recently wrote. God bless all of you for your encouraging words! Stay strong!
Hi Gracie
My name is Jenna and I came across your site. You are an amazing, precious gift and special earthly angel. You are full of courageous, strength, determination, and fight. You are a brave warrior, smilen champ and an inspiration. You are a princess hero, beautiful trooper, and a tough cookie. You are full of life, spunk, joy, smiles, and sunshine. You have taught everyone about life, and the gift of life. You will be in my thoughts and prayers. http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/champ291 I love it when people sign my guestbook. i was born with a rare life threatening disease, and 13 other diagnosis.
Hi Jenna! I don’t think I’ve ever been called all those wonderful names! It sounds like you are all those things and more. Thanks for your prayers and your gift of words.
This is perfect, every word captures being a “heart mom” perfectly. Thank you for sharing!!!!
Wow, Anne, this is incredible. So moving. Thank you for writing it and sharing it with all of us!
This post was so amazing. Wonderfully written.
Beautiful Annie, one can only imagine what its like to live in your shoes but one cant imagine what every hour of everyday brings. I could never have imagined, you have enlightened me on what it takes to be a “Heart Mom” a job one cant imagine getting.
Anne – I am nana to a little angel – I was there when she was born and for the first hour of her life it was just me and her as doctors looked after her mummy, my daughter. No words can describe the bond that I feel for my beautiful brave granddaughter – your poem came very close.
So true. There aren’t just heart moms out there, but heart grandmas and aunties and cousins. Heart defects span ages, cultures, socio-economic statuses, classes, and genders and have affected so many. Thanks for your words.
Beautifully written words to express what it it is like to be thrown into the world of Congenital Heart Defects!!!!! Heart Hugs….from one CHD mom to another!!!!
Definitely “THROWN IN”…but Thankful that God has me here now!
It’s amazing that someone else out there knows what I experienced and feels the same as me…thank you for sharing.
You aren’t alone!
I admire you for having the strength to write these words. I too have lived through each and every one of your emotions listed above, but have been unable to share my heartache with anyone and truely share how I felt during those first few days/months after my heart baby was born. I applaude you for taking the time to share your life with us out there.
Thank you so much, Kathy. I haven’t totally understood the purpose of my writing, but your comment just opened my eyes to one of the reasons I shouldn’t quit. Writing can give words to those have felt the same things, but haven’t been able to express or articulate them. Thank you for your heart felt thanks.
beautiful writing Annie. Excellent
I can’t stop crying – just beautiful and as a heart mum myself I feel everything you have written so beautifully Thankyou x
It’s been three years since my son’s birth. His open heart surgery was on his seventh day. For some reason, I am JUST starting to struggle with what whirlwind occurred in my life. Your words reminded me of the strength my son and I used to battle each crisis as he fought to be whole, healthy, alive. He has healed…now it’s my turn.
Thank you so much for sharing. You have opened my eyes to my sister’s world over the last 14months. I have not been able to imagine and still cannot imagine how emotional this journey must be.
I have no words…… so I just send hugs.
That was amazing and so well written! Beautiful!