Skip to main content

Your son's heart isn't working.

Friday 29th September 17 is World Heart Day it is where we raise awareness for all things heart. Strangely it is also my original due date with Elijah. Something we know all to well. Elijah, my first son was born with an undiagnosed heart condition which led to open heart surgery at 6 months old. It was and is a very painful journey to go down with your child. This has been inspired by all of those heart/ CHD parents currently navigating their way through all things heart with their warriors.

For those who want or need support and vital information please do visit Tiny Tickers who strive to improve early detection and care for all babies diagnosed with heart conditions.

Me and my heart warrior

 


To you; the CHD parent,

After being dealt the devastating blow your child’s heart isn’t working properly, your world feels like it is crashing in around you.

They can’t be right, can they?

You refuse to believe it, go into denial, this cannot happen to you and your baby surely?

You look over to see your child wired up to every machine and it hits you, your child could die.

The heart is pretty much the most important organ in the body, and you need it to live.

What if they don’t make it?

How do you break this to everyone?

What did you do wrong?

Was it that missed vitamin during pregnancy? Did you do something wrong?

You feel responsible for this; the guilt is unbearable, it was you that grew them wrong.

Leaflets are handed to you explaining the inner workings of the heart, terms you don’t understand and the complications that come too.

It isn’t enough that your child’s heart isn’t working properly, that it is structurally not correct but they could face a whole host of life threatening issues on top.

You look over at your partner and his face is grey, his head in his hands.

The life you imagined for your child has been ripped away, will they make it to their first day at school? Will they graduate? Get married? Have children?

 Will they live?

What life will they have?

Will they keep up, or be forced to stay at home, miss out because they are struggling?

In a matter of minutes, their life flashes before you, and you fear for the worst.

Talks of surgery are more and more frequent, but they do not need this do they? They have got it wrong after all.

Appointments made, scans and tests are completed and you suddenly have consent papers in your hands.

You are potentially signing away your child’s life, or giving to them.

You do not dare to hope, what if you jinx it?

What if you do not bring them home again?

That you lose your baby?

You live the hospital life, you fear every cold and flu season, future surgeries and if people will make fun of him for the incision mark down his chest.

You try and act normal, pretend everything is fine but you live in constant worry that something will go wrong.

That they will discover something at the next consultant meeting.

You try your best to raise awareness, to speak to others going through this, you try to get through it.

You still feel a pang of jealously when your friends have healthy babies, and you put of having another baby in case it happens again.

Each milestone they pass, starting nursery, walking, riding a bike, you wonder if they will make the next one.

You try not to hope in case it is cruelly taken away but as time goes on you feel yourself relaxing slightly. Until the next appointment that is.

You teeter between overprotective parent, and being numb to them falling over and bumping their head, I mean come on you’ve had heart surgery!

Deep down you know that CHD is now possibly the biggest part of your life and will be forever now.

There will be dark days, days you do not think you can come back from like seeing your child with a chest drain stitched into his chest.

There will be amazing days, like seeing him meet his brother for the first time.

It is not a smooth journey, especially when there is no visible end.

It is ongoing, stretching out for lifetime.

As much as you are a parent for the rest of your days you are also something else.

Part of a club that you really didn’t envisage on becoming part of, one where membership was mandatory.

Although it feels like it, you are not alone.

Never feel guilty for being sad, angry or even resentful it is all normal.

To you the heart parent, I say to you it is okay to hope again no matter how dark your day is.

From a CHD TOF Mum x

 

 

 

 




Comments

  1. As someone who both has a CHD (single ventricle) & a child with CHD (Shone's) I can definitely say being a parent is harder. Much love xx

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The time Fajita night resulted in having a baby in a bath.

The newest Cockerill Do you all remember my ever so optimistic natural birth plan? You can read it here. However, spoiler alert, it didn’t happen. What did happen was something no one was expecting. Wednesday the 5 th July… a mundane sort of day spent cleaning the house and doing the weekly shop. With Greg going back to work the next day I was determined to make sure everything was ready for when this baby arrived! I was three days off my due date and still hadn’t had one single sign this baby was imminently coming. I had been receiving messages from quite a few people asking if baby was here yet. I was getting fed up as everything I had tried to induce labour failed miserably and every morning for the last two weeks I woke up disappointed I wasn’t in labour! I gave up, walking didn’t help, pineapple made me sick and I was beginning to tire of the raspberry leaf tea. This baby was staying put. In the evening I put Elijah bed, and we began to settle down for the eveni...

The NICU Club

Helping out at The Big NICU Family Photo F our years ago, I was sitting alone in a hospital side room after just giving birth. My baby was down the hall after being admitted to NICU and the echoes of the distant baby's on the ward were deafening. I was frightened, had no idea what was happening and was all alone. Lonely Alone with the fear my baby might die, alone that I knew no one who had gone through this. Alone with the fact I didn't know what the hell was happening. I had no one I could text, call just to ask what do I do? How should I feel? Should I be this angry? This resentful and bitter anger bubbled beneath the surface because I felt I was being robbed of my start to motherhood. I shut down, didn't want anyone to visit. If they did I shut myself away in my room and sent then down to NICU with my partner. I couldn't face the questions, the pity. Then during our time no one professional came to see if we were okay. A few leaflets here and there, a quic...

Dad's feel guilty too don't they?

      Recently, there have been so many articles and posts about mum Guilt. As a NICU mum I felt beyond guilty when Elijah was born. Check out my Mum Guilt post on Selfish Mother. However, where is the dad guilt? Do dad's feel guilty? Or is this something us mums take upon ourselves to feel? Another thing as a mum we feel we have to take on (and then feel guilty about) because they don't? Is it a common mis conception that dad's don't feel guilty about anything?   When you have a baby, guilt is a huge part of motherhood, it's almost instant. The whole breast vs bottle argument is thrust in your face once your baby is born and your decision is then criticized by anyone and everyone. Something that dad cannot really feel guilty about, if baby doesn't latch and you formula feed (I think whatever you want or have to do is fine!).   As an equal partner in bringing the baby into this world and raising them, do dad's feel what we do? Are the...