Checking the mail today I got one of those envelopes that just hits you like a ton of bricks. No, it wasn’t a bill. A nice little appointment confirmation and reminders about eating and drinking rules with anesthesia came in for my four year old daughter. I’ve known this process was coming since what initially looked like a two chamber heart showed up on her five month ultrasound. It still isn’t easy.
You see, we’ve been lucky or blessed, however you want to look at it. I was told that she would need preemptive heart surgery in utero, then as time passed that was changed to needing heart surgery immediately after birth. She still graduated from the NICU with oxygen tanks and heart medication in tow, but surgery free. I was beyond grateful to stop living from day to day in constant stress over how her heart would tolerate bottle feeding, temperature regulation, baths, but then I got comfortable. As time goes on, it’s easy to forget how far she’s come and the bullets we’ve dodged.
At check ups with her amazing cardiologist every year the story has been pretty much the same. Her heart isn’t working normally, but it’s working. She seems like any other four year old: vivacious, stubborn, energetic, inquisitive. She is not the picture of a child with a struggling heart. I got comfortable with the check ups and hearing, “Let’s watch and see how she does. Next year we’ll reevaluate and see if it’s time to start thinking about surgery.”
This year, however, we got slightly different feedback. It’s time to start gathering more detailed information about her heart so we can come up with the best surgical plan of action. Bam. My heart was a car wreck.
As the cardiologist explained our two best surgical options, the medical names of the procedures washed years worth of denial away. By the way, it’s nearly impossible to balance the urge to break down and also make it seem like there’s nothing to worry about when your child is watching you talk to their doctor.
So here we are. I’m making candied apples with the kiddos, stressing over making sure she’s got an amazing show and tell for preschool this week, seeing if she’ll like what’s on the cafeteria menu for Monday, packing my to do list for my own school day tomorrow, and this friendly appointment reminder is staring at me on the fridge. It’s just an MRI, nothing major. It’s eating me up.
I realize that I am not the poster mom for enjoying every moment with my kids. Life is hectic. Here lately they’ve been little hoodlums. I don’t appreciate my carefree time with them as much as I should. Why does it take looming medical procedures to make you stop and smell the Play-Do?
And so these are the nights that you aren’t short tempered when they wiggle while you’re flossing their teeth. These are the nights you breathe them in a bit while they’re giving you a good night hug. You do the silly voices when you’re reading the bedtime story. You remember that every day really is a bit of a gift, cliche or not.
Child Goose Chase 