February 22, 2017
We are at the end of a month that is meant for increasing
awareness for Congenital Heart Disease.
Heart week. Heart month. Good ole Valentines’ Day is our patron day of
relatability. Hearts are everywhere, and
I have eaten a good many chocolate, peanut-butter filled, and Sweetheart
varieties. We have cute cards and a
plethora of notes and goodies now that the Kindergarten party is over and all
the sweets are home. Also, a couple
Ninja turtle masks and a heap of temporary tattoos. Love to see what marketing comes up with as
the years go by. I like it. I like the intentionality and the love giving
that can be involved in the holiday. But
heart month…
The American Heart Association says that 8 out of every 1000
babies are born today with some sort of congenital heart defect- that is almost
1 in 100. 40,000 babies in our country
each year are born with a heart defect.
I had one of those babies. I HAVE
one, I should say. Ada is five now. She is happy, carefree, loves Paw Patrol along
with every other kid I know. She built a
snow fort this weekend in the cul de sac with Daddy and me. She ran around the park playing football with
a brother and a daddy and an uncle and me on Sunday. She is normal. But she has a scar that tells of the past
five years.
I recently met a woman whose niece was born with a heart
defect that sounded similar to Ada’s. I
want to contact that mom, bring her meals, give her hugs, cry, and pray and be
there for her. But also I am remembering
that when I was pregnant with Ada and had heard that she had a complex
congenital heart defect, I didn’t reach out to the handful of others who were
friends of friends or cousins to next-door neighbors, or whatnot. Ada’s condition was complex enough that I
didn’t want to hear from a stranger about how it all went well with their
kid. That wouldn’t guarantee a thing for
my baby. So leave me alone to my grief.
So, isolation.
Not that we weren’t surrounded by a heap of loving family,
friends, small group. That made all the
difference. But I was not encouraged by
the words of others telling me that for another child, another situation, there
was a positive outcome. It was all
well-meant. So, looking back, what did I
learn? How can you help a friend or
family member whose child is born with a heart defect…. OR, I think this can be
more broad of a question… in what ways can you help the mother, the father, the
family whose child is hospitalized or undergoing a season with a lot of medical
needs?
1. Show up. But show up with food or coffee, please, and don’t stay too long unless
they BEG you to. And if they are
Minnesotan, they have to beg you, so make sure that the begging sounds
legit. Oh, and ask first. I had a friend set up a meal train for us at
the hospital, so for a couple of weeks, we didn’t have to think about dinner,
and there was no way we were going to leave the hospital early on after Ada’s
surgery for something “minor”, like food.
A friend would stop by with a tasty meal and chat for a few minutes, and
it was so therapeutic for me to be able to have some of my friends see what we
were in the midst of and be better able to understand. Some of the hand-offs were awkward, as in the
hospital there is constant activity with doctors, nurses, meds, cleaning crews,
vitals checks, x-rays, blood draws… so though it might’ve been a “good time”
for a visit a half hour earlier, that window may have quickly closed by the
time the visitor arrives. So, be
flexible. Hand off some food or beverage
(COFFEE), give a hug, and don’t feel bad if you sense you’ll just have to head
right back out the door. The visit
wasn’t about you, anyways.
2 Well, this one wasn’t #1, but sometimes you just need to meet those
physical needs first. If there is someone on your heart and you know that their
circumstances are so difficult and you want to do something for them,
pray. But here’s the deal: it didn’t
mean much to me if people told me they WOULD pray, or that they HAD BEEN
praying. Just do it. Pray out loud, with the person. Or, just as beautiful, pray for them when you
think of them and DO it. I have my own
personal baggage with people telling me about praying for my daughter, that she
would be healed. And then she
wasn’t. So that’s just what I need to
deal with in my own walk with God, but here is the thing: pray for peace. Pray for skilled doctors and nurses as they
assess and treat and make decisions in sometimes stressful situations. Pray for the family dynamics and for peace
and encouragement in the hearts of the care-people – mom, dad, siblings. Pray for healing and effective operations of
course. But for myself, let’s just say
that it didn’t help me to know that- for example- people were praying for the
holes in Ada’s heart to close. It was
those very holes that allowed for her heart to circulate blood as it needed to,
given her specific heart anatomy.
3. Listen.
This leads out of the prayer category.
Ask your friend how they are
doing, and ask at a time or in a way when you can really listen to them. A friend of mine came to the hospital just to
check on me… I walked off the elevator and when I saw her there I started
bawling. We went on a 20 minute walk
outside the hospital and she just let me talk and “vent” over my experiences and that was the greatest gift I needed in
that moment.
4. Learn.
Seeing the pain of our friends and family can lead us to want to know
more about their struggles. Some of our
family members made great efforts to try to learn about Ada’s heart and the
specifics of what she was going through and how she had been knit
together. It was therapeutic for Nick
and me to be able to talk through some of the particulars of her situation with
close friends or family who had learned what they could so that they could more
fully understand and relate to our situation.
And not only that, but they could be in a position to support and encourage
in our particulars. This is a way to
show love.
5. Remember.
It sure feels good to be remembered, doesn’t it? In life, when we go through stress-filled or
traumatic events, they change us. They
are pivotal memories, pivotal moments.
Sickness, surgeries, hospitalizations, health scares – they all leave a
mark on our lives. When those we love
remember those times with us, it is huge.
In the last year there have been 2 or 3 times when our friends have
reached out to us as their children have been hospitalized or have had health
scares, knowing that we have been “there” – or in a similar situation. It IS a big deal. But to know that you are not the only one who
remembers the trial can be healing.
6. Again, food.
Food and coffee, coffee and food.
