The word "heart" earned a new meaning when:
I heard my baby's heartbeat for the first time.
I held my premature baby in my arms.
My husband said there might be something wrong.
A doctor visited holding onto diagrams of the heart.
Doctors uttered the words "heart defect".
They took my daughter from my arms to take her to a better qualified hospital.
The word “heart” earned a new meaning when:
I heard the words "septal, valve, ventricle, surgery".
I felt her chest just to make sure it was still beating.
I started watching for signs of cyanosis.
I began attending appointments for echoes, EKGs, and chest x-rays, and I start to understand what I am looking at on the screen or what the report says.
I learned to fear public parks, restaurants, movies, and stores.
I started wiping down anything before, during, and after my child touched it.
I relied on a heart monitor just so I could get some sleep at night.
I gave dose after dose of propanolol, asprin, aldactone, and lasix.
The word “heart” earned a new meaning when:
My husband cried with me while we watched our daughter sleep, on the morning of her open-heart surgery.
I handed my child to a surgeon not knowing what the future held.
I sat next to my child, in the ICU, praying I would get a glimpse of the child I remembered before surgery.
My beautiful child has a chest full of battle wounds that she will proudly show off for the rest of her life.
The word “heart” earned a new meaning when:
I realized my life will never be the same due to my child’s special little heart.
The word “heart” earned a new meaning when:
I see how much “heart” is packed into the little body of my amazing little fighter!
We love you Macy! You are our hero!
Heart Hugs,
Mommy and Daddy
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