Why Me?

Often, when something tragic happens in our lives, or maybe even something mildly uncomfortable, we are tempted to ask the question, "Why me?"  Often, when we ask that question, we are warned that it will do us no good.  It won't change the situation.  It won't make any difference.  BUT, I say, ask the question.  Whenever I ask the "Why me?" I am overwhelmed by the answers.

"Why me?"  Why did I, out of my many many cousins, my husbands many many cousins, and all of our friends (two years ago) have the baby with half a heart?  Why was I the one who's family was torn apart during each hospital stay?  Why was I the one who was living with the fear of losing my child?  There were so many "why me's" that ran and still run through my head every time we hit a bump in the road.  And with every "why me" I am reminded exactly "why me."
"Why Me?"  Because I am strong.  Stronger than I ever knew.  I never knew that I was strong enough to sleep through the constant beeping of a hospital at night.  I never knew that I was strong enough to hold my child down while the IV team took 45 minutes to place one IV.  I never knew that I was strong enough to fire a cardiologist who couldn't remember the difference between my child and a poodle.  I never knew that I was strong enough to do what it takes to be a heart mom.  That's why me.
"Why Me?"  Because I needed to see miracles.  I've seen the miracle of a baby recovering from two open-heart surgeries.  I've seen the miracle of friends and strangers stepping in to do whatever they could for little ol' me (and my family.)  I've seen the everyday miracles that at one time seemed random, but now I know exactly what they meant.  I've seen the miracle of prayers being answered.  I've seen the miracle of a normally crazy, emotionally messy woman (me) step up and manage to do what she needs to take care of her family.  I've seen God's hand in my life, preparing me for this journey before it started and everyday since.
"Why me?"  Because God loves me.  From the mouth of Mother Teresa, “I know God won't give me anything I can't handle. I just wish he didn't trust me so much."  I was lucky enough to hear this quote days before we were told Olivia had a heart defect.  The initial feelings I had when we were told we would have a heart baby were feeling of inadequacy, loss, weakness.  I didn't think this was something I could handle.  But Mother Teresa's quote gave me that glimmer of hope.  He was trusting me to take care of this special spirit.  He was trusting me to fight for this baby girl.  To fight for her life, and her well-being.  He was trusting me to be the amazing person it takes to be a heart mom.  I had my doubts that I could do this.  I wasn't sure that God was giving me something I could handle, but because He was trusting me with this special role as a heart mom, I knew He wouldn't leave me to do it on my own.  He knew that the blessings would far out-weigh the trials.  He knew that I would find my strength.  He knew that I would get a few steps closer to becoming the person He wants me to be.  He trusted me.  He showed me how much He loves me.  That's why me.

Broken Record

That's what I feel like most of the time.  A broken record stuck on heart stuff.  My life over the past two years has been filled with all things heart.  Heart surgery, heart moms, heart clothing, heart conversations.  While I am totally fine with that, I sometimes wonder if those around me wanna take the broken record in my head and smash it into a million pieces.  But they can't.  I can't.  

In the past two incredibly hard and miraculous years I have learned countless lessons, felt emotions stronger than I ever have before, and experienced REAL miracles.  And I wanna tell everyone about it.  I wanna show everyone Olivia's zipper that represents what she's made it through.  I wanna tell everyone about how she's doing so well she hasn't need occupational therapy.  I want everyone to talk to Ella and see how amazing she has been in sharing her parents, taking care of her baby sister, and not letting Olivia's crazy first year get her down.  I want everyone to know that I made it through this incredibly hard thing.  I want everyone to know that during this incredibly hard thing I felt more loved than at any other moment in my life.  I want everyone to understand that even though Olivia looks perfectly normal and fine, every single day is a miracle for her and for us.  Every time my incredibly cuddly Livie grabs her big sister and gives her hugs or climbs up next to her on the chair and lays her head on Ella's shoulder I want everyone to know that those moments are only possible because of the amazing nurses and doctors at Primary Children's Hospital.  I want to tell everyone everything about every piece of our heart life in hopes that they will know how amazing my girls are, how lucky they are in their health, and that miracles happen.  

I'm almost positive there are some, if not many, that wish I would just talk about something normal.

But this is my new normal.  It's hard.  Incredibly hard sometimes.  But so worth it.  So, from this broken record, I will continue to wear my heart mom hoodie proudly, I will continue to brag about my miracle baby and her amazing sister, and I will continue to tell you about my experiences as Olivia's mom.  

Thankful

It's that time of year again.  The time of year everyone starts to remember the things they are thankful for.  The things that normally they don't think about until they are sitting around that table piled high with food that took hours to prepare.  

Now, don't get me wrong.  I know that many try to remember their blessings.  But I also know from personal experience that it's easy to slip into a stupor.  Let's call it the stupor of life.  It's what happens when life is just going.  Not necessarily going well or badly but just going.  The mundane takes over and what was once extraordinary has become normal and you forget to be grateful for it.  We try to remember.  But unfortunately we're stuck in these darn human bodies with these darn human imperfections and we don't always succeed.

I, stuck with my imperfect human-ness, have slipped into my fair share of life stupors.  I was content with life, and in my prayers I would express my gratitude but was I really genuine?  As a girl who is quick to point out her weaknesses, I will admit freely, nope, I sure wasn't.  And then I received this amazing gift.   A gift in the form of a sweet little baby with a perfectly broken heart.

When Olivia was diagnosed we were told, rather bluntly, "You will outlive your child."  Those words have forced me into a never-ending state of gratitude.  No one can tell me how long I will have her.  No one can tell me what our future holds.  So I am filled with a tremendous amount of genuine gratitude for every moment with my baby girl.

I have seen how quickly things can change in the heart world.  It's terrifying.  Then it makes me think of how quickly things can change in the regular world.  And it's terrifying.  And I am filled with a genuine gratitude for the moments I have with Andrew and Ella too.

How much does my Father in Heaven love me, to send me this beautiful gift?  I have had some rough moments in our journey, in which I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold on.  But even through it all, I could look down at those beautiful big hazel eyes and be overwhelmed with the gratitude for a wonderful hospital, surgeon, nurses, medications, my own strength, the home I got to bring her home to, and every little bit of our lives that were once those very mundane things I used to forget about. 

This Thanksgiving season I am grateful for the lessons Olivia teaches me everyday.  Most specifically, the lesson of year round genuine gratitude.