Today marks the day

A year ago today, our heart journey began. We had taken the boys with us to the follow-up ultrasound, and little did we know of the news we were about to hear. We knew that this ultrasound was to double-check all 4 chambers of the baby's heart, since at our routine 20 week ultrasound the tech had problems finding all 4 (Maddie was breach at that ultrasound so they didn't make a big issue of it), as well as to check the placement of the placenta...it's weird, but I was more worried about the placenta. With each of my babies, I've had a follow-up ultrasound to check something so I wasn't too alarmed with this one. I had no idea that the world of Congenital Heart Defects existed.

I'll never forget how I felt while lying on that ultrasound table, the technician quietly performing her tasks, not uttering a single word to us even though we were pelting her with questions. We sensed something major was wrong at that point, just by her facial expressions and the tense atmosphere. Our questions stopped. After about 30 minutes of this, she went to get her supervisor, the radiologist, to see if she could get better pictures of what they needed. While she was out of the room, Bryan and I sat quiet, shaken, and in shock of what was happening. We were completely blindsided. After she returned, which seemed like an eternity later, we were told that our baby's heart had some suspected abnormalities. The right ventricle was very small, she mentioned the word, "hypoplastic", and they were referring us on since they didn't feel that they should make a diagnosis. We asked many questions but the radiologist and technician wouldn't really answer them. Listening to them whisper back and forth while they were looking and pointing at the screen was extremely agonizing...we felt so helpless and confused.

After the ultrasound was complete, we were told to go wait in the waiting room while they talked to my doctor about the findings. Bryan and the boys went out to wait while I made my way into the bathroom where I completely lost it. I couldn't fight back the tears and found myself uncontrollably sobbing. How could this be happening to me? my baby? my family? WHY? This wouldn't be the first time I'd ask the question "why" (I still do at times), or that it wouldn't be the first time I'd lose it in a hospital bathroom! That's where most of my weak, furious, and desperate feelings have been unleashed. God and I have had some rounds in hospital bathrooms!!! When I finally composed myself, I went out to wait with my family. As I sat down and looked ahead, through bleary, swollen eyes, I noticed that the pregnant, young girl sitting across from me had a very large tattoo on her neck/chest. Now, I don't have anything against tattoo's but this one definitely caught my attention and just rubbed me the wrong way. She was wearing a low-cut shirt to reveal the big colorful artwork....her tattoo was of a heart. Not the shape of a heart but the anatomy picture of a heart. Her tattoo was of an actual heart, I can still see the aortic arch! God does work in mysterious ways, so maybe he thought I needed a visual since I was still trying to wrap my brain around my baby not having 4 symmetrical chambers, after all, I am a visual learner. What irony, and I couldn't help but stare at it. At that moment I immediately thought, I'm sure her unborn baby is healthy and just look at her...she's an unfit mother and just too young to be one. I don't know what her story was or how anything turned out for her and I never will. I do wonder why though, at that moment, she symbolized (or her tattoo rather did) the news that I had just received...my baby's anatomical heart was broken and mine was shattered. I was very angry and extremely judgemental of a little girl that I didn't even know and I'd probably never see again. I did refrain from glaring at her, although I remember she kept staring at me, probably wondering why I looked so horrible, mascara streaks all over my red face for I had just cried the very "ugly cry" and was still trying to get a grip. To this day, the image of that tattoo is stuck in my mind.

If you were to ask me what I envisioned the prognosis of the news of our baby's heart would bring a year ago, it would not have been this. Life is good. Yes, 2008 was a challenging year...but we did it! SHE DID IT!!! And Miss Maddie continues to beat the odds each and every day with her defected heart. That's what "having heart" is truly about. And since this blog is a journal of sorts, I thought I shouldn't refrain from sharing the ironic tattoo story. Plus, Maddie might find this funny to read someday. It is part of her heart journey, actually marking the beginning of it. I just hope it won't give her any big "body art" ideas when she's older...