Heart Surgery Recovery

As soon as we shared our news that our eldest daughter, L, had two congenital heart defects and would need open heart bypass surgery people have been awesome. Like "The Body of Christ can move mountains" awesome. Like every dot, flower, and thorn painted with the Sacred and Immaculate Hearts above represents a prayer, a sacrifice, a rosary, a Mass offered up for my daughter, and those are only the ones that were submitted online. But every time we take a long look at that painting I am overwhelmed by the goodness of others and the way God is glorified by your works. 

The first Tuesday night in May Resa, L, and I sat around our dining room table with L's godmother, Katie, making invitations to their angel penguin birthday party. The next morning, with invites in the mail, I was sitting at my weekly moms' group when I got the phone call from the pediatric cardiologist's scheduler: there was an opening for surgery a week from Thursday. Did we want L to get it? We wanted L's surgery to happen before my c-section so we said Yes and then our life changed gears super fast.

All the potential party-goers were contacted and told that the birthday party would not be later in the month but in three days. The school, whose principal had already said L's last day could be whenever we needed it to be, was told that her last day would be in a week. We made arrangements for L to receive Anointing of the Sick before the surgery, for someone to be with our other kids, for Travis to be off work, for all our "i"s to be dotted and our "t"s crossed. 

The morning of L's surgery everyone got up early and headed to the 7am Mass. We had been given special permission for L to receive a very teeny tiny bit of Holy Communion. Fr. Julius prayed for L  at Mass and asked everyone present to pray for her throughout the day. In fact, a friend of our's had arranged with our priests for there to be all day adoration with a special request for people to pray for L. Parishioners would be at our church until 7pm praying for L and during the school day each grade took a turn before the Blessed Sacrament to pray for our daughter. 

Immediately after Mass our family headed over to the parish school and waited in the gym. Our pastor had arranged with the principal for there to be an all-school assembly immediately following Morning Announcements so that the whole school would be part of the prayers offered during L's reception of the Anointing of the Sick. It was awesome. Our family stood with her on that gymnasium floor as Fr. Julius administered the Sacrament. 

We then headed over to the Children's Hospital of Illinois, Travis, L, and me. From the tremendous outpouring on the blog, Facebook, and Instagram we knew that people were praying for us all over the country and world, and when combined with the powerful experiences at our parish we knew that we were being absolutely covered in prayer and graces. We were afraid and anxious but I can say with confidence that those prayers helped to bring us peace and calm our concerns. We were bowled-over by how many had pledged their prayers and we walked into the hospital knowing that you all were with us as we went.  

Some of Travis' students had made a special blanket for L when they heard about her surgery and as she waited for her surgery she wrapped herself in it. It was covered with hearts, the symbol of love, and anchors, the symbol of hope. I loved it. 

As we waited in the pre-op area we were again blessed in a special way. The hospital is a Catholic one, and in more than name only. The people who update loved ones throughout the operation process are from the chaplain's office. The man who just happened to be assigned to us is also a deacon at our parish's sister parish. He was able to give us a special blessing and as he prayed over us the nurse stopped what she was doing to pray with us, crossing herself when we were done.

After waiting for about an hour, playing Uno and chatting the whole time, it was finally time to go. Different doctors and nurses and specialists had come and gone the whole time, each chatting with L and reassuring us as they explained everything that was going to happen. When it was time for her to head to the OR she gave us hugs and kisses and she walked away from us, hair in a cover, love and hope wrapped around her, Cozy Heart Penguin in her arms, and a smile on her face. 

Travis and I went to the waiting room, getting updates along the way. The worst 

was when the deacon called us to let us know that L was on the bypass machine - meaning her heart was no longer beating. Crazy and horrible and amazing and terrifying, if you can imagine.

Surgery went incredibly well and they finished in just under two hours. We were walked up to the PICU (peds intensive care unit) but had to wait for a bit longer than expected to see her because she was having such a hard time coming out of the anesthesia. When the surgeons finally came out to talk to us they explained how happy they were with how the surgery had gone - they were able to use the hole in her heart as a short-cut to thread her veins through so it could finally be attached in the correct place. They used part of her heart sac to plug the rest of it up and ... all's well that ends well. But it's also just craaaaaaazy.

That first day was pretty tough. As she fought to come out of the anesthesia she was in a lot of pain and incredibly confused. At one point she yelled out, "Help me, Daddy!" and it was literally one of the worst moments of our lives because there was nothing we could do to help our baby girl. There was a chest tube to make sure fluid didn't collect around her heart, but it was what caused her the most pain and discomfort. She threw up several times because of it - can you imagine how painful that would be with a broken sternum?! 

But the nurses were rock stars. They took such great care of her and did everything in their means to make her comfortable. The whole cardiology team was just amazing and we were so grateful to be at one of the best children's hospitals in the country - just 20 minutes from our home. 

Over the next few days she napped. Once they removed her chest tube (and the pace maker wires) she started to feel much better. She moved from her bed to the chair, then her bed to the bathroom, then from her bed all the way down to the other end of the floor and then out to the roof-top garden. She rested there, then walked almost the whole way back until the nurse insisted that she ride in a wheelchair the rest of the way. It was twenty-four hours after her open heart surgery! The nurses said it was the longest walk they'd ever seen in a patient at that state in the game. Eventually she regained an appetite. I read aloud to her and we watched the live action Cinderella. Her uncles visited, along with her godmother and grandmother, mormor and grandpa.

I love this picture of me, 9 months pregnant, brushing L's hair for her and putting it up in a bun as she requested. She was so worn out she fell asleep while I was doing it, but it was so good to have something tangible I could do for her. 

Our sleeping beauty.

L, resting in the roof-top garden. She's wearing her super hero shirt, a gift from Trav's co-workers. 

Saturday morning breakfast.

Sunday, Mother's Day, L was given clearance to come home. After the surgery she had to cough a lot, clearing her chest, and her Cozy Heart Penguin - a birthday gift from her Mormor - was her go-to object to hug during the coughing. It was also used to soften the feel of the seat belt against her incision. 

We couldn't believe that just three days after having open heart surgery she could come home! As soon as we arrived at our house the very first thing she asked to do was go outside and sit on the swing. Once again: crazy. 

Early on L had a lot of limitations. She mostly napped that first post-op week, took pain meds, and was sore. Many people gifted her with books and crafty things and so she colored, molded, sketched, created, and read. Since she could not lift anything over 5lbs, be in public, or do anything that might lead to a fall she could not run, dance, skip, do stairs, ride her bike, swing high, use the slide, climb anything, attend school or Mass, and so on. But a friend from church dropped off the hula hoops her daughters used to play with - 20 some years ago! - and L became a master hooper! Thank God - literally - that Chris was moved to bring those hula hoops over because they were *just* what L needed - something physical, something new to master, and something that was allowed by the surgeons. Several times a day she'd walk around our house, hooping as she went. She'd hula hoop for minutes - over 8 minutes straight once - and even do the chicken dance while hooping! 

With special permission from her doctors L was able to attend the last day of school, two weeks post-op. As a family we went to the all school Mass and she got to sit with her class, though she had to wear a face mask and she carried her cough-buddy penguin. As a special treat she made heart-shaped sugar cookies for her classmates, which she and her daddy took to her class after the Mass. She chatted with her friends and was able to thank them for their prayers. 

At this point L is able to swim, slide, swing, run (with shoes - no flip flops!), and do most of her usual activities. She cannot roller skate, ride her bike, climb trees, or play contact sports until November (so that her sternum is not re-broken) but otherwise she is free to live her life. One of the beautiful things about this time is that L has really fallen in love with reading. In the past the only books she really read were the Junie B. Jones series but now she's been plowing through the Lemony Snicket books, has started the Narnia books, and has read The Secret Garden, Anne of Green Gables, and a few others along the way. 

Over and over again I have said that how well L is doing is a testament to the power of prayer and modern medicine. To everyone who sent money or gift cards or presents or prayers: thank you! Our family was so well cared-for during those difficult hours, days, and weeks and we are so grateful. Learning that L had heart issues was terrifying and we were so scared about the surgery. I admit I was angry at God for giving us another hardship to endure. But on this side of it I also have to admit that we had it easy. L had one surgery, it went well, her incision has healed well, and she has a 99.9% chance of going on and living a normal, healthy life - free to do whatever she wishes - once her body is completely healed. So many heart kids have repeated surgeries and they and their families truly are suffering for a long, long time. We had a community of loved ones supporting us. We were blanketed in prayers. Our daughter is healthy and alive. We are so fortunate and honestly, looking back at the tantrums I threw in prayer I am embarrassed. We've had it so easy. May God comfort and restore those who have not. 

And once again I very sincerely want to say Thank You to everyone who has prayed for us, cared for us, and gifted something to us. I am slowly working on sending out Thank You cards and I'm really hoping that in the chaos that was our life we didn't leave any of the gifts off our record log. Please know that we are so grateful - to God and to you. 

Spiritual bouquet embroidered by Jenna from Call Her Happy

Hiding Behind Excuses: the lesson of the cursed fig tree

"The next day as they were leaving Bethany He was hungry. Seeing from a distance a fig tree in leaf, He went over to see if He could find anything on it. When He reached it He found nothing but leaves; it was not the time for figs. And He said to it in reply, "May no one ever eat of your fruit again!" ... Early in the morning as they were walking along, they saw the fig tree withered to its roots."

Mark 11:12-14, 20

Thursday was the third day I went back to this passage in Mark during my quiet time. I read it and then read it again, each time more slowly. I sat with it on Tuesday, on Wednesday, and again yesterday.

It seemed like such an over-reaction from Jesus - from God - and it bothered me. "Lord, I don't understand. 'It was not the time for figs.' You made nature, You set the rules. Why should the fig tree be cursed and die just because it was doing what it was doing - it was what it was. 'It was not the time for figs.' It couldn't help the fact that it wasn't bearing fruit. 

The footnote said that the fig tree really represents Israel, which had stopped bearing fruit, that it is a "parable in action." It still seemed rather unfortunate for the fig tree. 

I sat with it longer and asked, "If I am the fig tree are You going to curse me? What fruit am I not bearing? But what if the only reason I'm not bearing the fruit is because it's not the time for figs! It's just not the season of life for me to be producing! That's not fair!"

And then I saw it. I saw how I was hiding behind the excuse, clinging to it, shoving it in God's face. "IT'S NOT THE TIME FOR FIGS!"

But God sees past the excuses.

Now I am not a theologian and I know nothing of fig trees that grow in the Middle East, but I noticed that when our Lord looked at the tree the only thing He found was leaves. Not remnants of fruit just harvested, not blossoms for fruit to come, just leaves. Lots of beautiful leaves. The tree looked nice, it looked like it should have something for Him, it looked healthy and lush. So maybe the tree thought it was doing well and others would even say, "Oh how lovely!" Maybe well meaning people would even tell it, "It's okay that you're not bearing fruit right now. It's not the time for figs. In this season of your life you can just be what you are - look you're even providing shade!"

And I saw myself in the tree and in all the excuses I use and all the beauty in my life that I hide behind, hoping that they will be distracting enough that no one will notice what I could and should have but what I lack instead.

Of course there are seasons of life. There are times when we have to step back, say "no," and things may even look barren to an outsider. But God should be the one to give us permission instead of us giving excuses to God. God should be the one to tell us, "It is not the time for you to do this. It is not the time for figs." God, who has our best interest at Heart, will lovingly care for us, protect us, and build us up. He will nurture us until it is time for us to go out again, bearing visible fruit. But in the meantime there will be growth. Our roots will deepen, our limbs with stretch, our trunks will strengthen. 

I guess what I'm trying to say with all this flowery language is that I think the fig tree had stopped producing figs and just become a tree. It was no longer being what it was intended to be. It may have been a lovely tree but it was a horrible fig tree and that was its failure. 

I may be a really nice person. My life my look swell and I may seem to have my stuff together. I may even seem successful. But God has intended for me to be a saint. If I am a lovely person but a horrible saint then I, too, am a failure. I may put on a good show - I may even be beautiful, happy, and successful - but in the end I will be withered to my roots for all eternity with only my excuses to still cling to. 

Going forward I know that I will turn this into a prayer - an inside joke of sorts between my Lord and myself. As I evaluate my works, my time, and my projects I will ask Him, "Is this the time for figs?" As I examine my days, my relationships, and my choices I will ask Him, "Is this the time for figs?" I'm sure that my stupid pride and stubbornness will mean I will continue to make excuses, but I am hopeful that I will listen more.

"The glory of God is man fully alive." St. Irenaeus

my spiritual gift

I recently spent most of my kids' quiet time taking an online spiritual gifts test.  Of course the reason I did is only because I want to figure out how I can better serve the Lord and has nothing to do with any pity parties I've been to lately.  (You wouldn't know about the parties because I was the only one invited.)

I have a desire to do something important-y.  Now.  Like write a book (like her or her or her).  I have all kinds of great ideas for books to write.  But the book ideas that are really good might actually need to be written by other people.  So maybe I could launch a ministry for parents who carry the cross of infertility or the loss of a child.   But without money and free babysitting I'm pretty limited in what I can do.  So maybe I should go back to work and do awesome things like meet deadlines, give presentations, and impress my boss. 

Of course all this is just to chase away feelings of being lackluster.  Boring.  Mediocre. 

I keep feeling like my life is ridiculous - stressful despite the monotony - a dance of keeping kids hydrated, fed, clean, happy, and well rested by doing the same thing over and over again.  It is unglamorous, demanding, and leaves me with little time for myself. 

I also kept hearing a whisper of Truth in the waaaay back, behind all the noise of my inner temper tantrums, reminding me that I don't have to feel impressive to be doing something massively important and beautiful.  That voice is also reminding me that if I want peace I need to make sure I'm doing what God wants me to do. 

His will is our peace.

But, I still wondered, is this all that He wants me to do? 

It is legitiment to believe that my life is more than being able to keep up with the choreography of two toddlers and a baby.  Being a wife and mother are two very, very important parts of who I am.  But they are not all that I am, and for me it is incredibly important to not forget that. 

Yet, I believe in the "season of life" perspective - that in this season of my life most of my time and talent will be focused on my husband and children.  In this season there will be little time for writing blog posts - let alone books! - or reading books or long lunches with friends.  But this is just a season.  The next season, when my kids are in school, my days are a little more my own.  The other parts of me, I believe, will come out even more when my children need me less.  That might be in five years, it may be in twenty-five years.  The important thing for me to do along the way is just make sure I'm doing what He wants.

Still, as I sat down to take the spiritual gift test I wondered if there was some great undiscovered skill in myself that once found would allow me to really do  awesome things.  Jaw-droppinly awesome things right now, in the season of life of five poopy diapers in an hour, doctors appointments, baths, naps, schedules, and meltdowns.  What I found instead is that I am already utilizing the gifts He gave me - I just hadn't named them before or thought of them as gifts and so thought little of them.

My top three, in order, are Faith, Hospitality, and Exhortation.

Faith: This gift is what got me through the last year.  I believe in God and His promises and difficult circumstances do little to those beliefs.  Even without taking the test I could have told you I had this gift - I never strayed from my faith and it has always been easy for me to accept the teachings of the Church.  Thank God.

Hospitality:  This gift helps me to connect with people, making them feel welcome and valued.  It leads me to connect with people.  I never saw this as a gift from God and, quite frankly, I feel a bit of relief that my desire to have people over and feed them is rooted in something holy as sometimes I've wondered if I'm just desperate for friends. 

Exhortation: This gift allows me to go to people to "comfort, counsel, and encourage" and "bring out the best in people."  Rebuking is a part of it but is done in a gentle, positive way that builds up.  [source]  Reading this was eye opening for me and I finally understood why I have such a strong attraction to fraternal correction and the first three Spiritual Works of Mercy: admonish the sinner, instruct the ignorant, and counsel the doubtful.  I desire these things for myself (to have people fraternally correct me) and to see them more in our Catholic culture.

Faith, Hospitality, and Exhortation - they fit together well, I think.  Knowing these gifts does not mean that I shall now go off and do something amazing, but the information will facilitate a much better job at doing what I am doing.  I now have a proper lens with which to view my intentions, time spent, and aspirations.  I can rest in the knowledge that God gave me these gifts to do His will, and so when I am utilizing them in a Spirit-led way I can have peace that that it is His will I am doing.  Discernment doesn't go out the window now that I have these three labels but it does get a heck of a lot easier.

The really beautiful thing for me is that these gifts pair very well with being a wife and mother.  Right now I can be fully utilizing these gifts.  My husband and children can (and do!) benefit from them, as can my friends and family.  They will beautifully carry over to each next season of my life yet they fit so perfectly within this current season.  I don't have to feel that my life is a silly repetitive dance of diapers, food, sleep, and play.  I can know that in showing my children and husband hospitality, in counseling them to do the right thing, and in holding firmly to my faith in God I am blessing their lives, strengthening my own virtue, and bringing glory and honor to the Lord.

I don't think that sounds boring, mediocre or ridiculous.  I think that sounds like exactly what I want.  Right now.

my new bold move

It seems that I am not alone in my desire to step out of my comfort zone a little and serve. 

This season of life that I am in right now has my hands literally full.  Toddlers, a baby, a heavy diaper bag, a cup of coffee, and a list of appointments, errands, and chores can keep me very focused on myself, my family, and the task at hand.  Thankfully, that's how it's supposed to be.  God does not expect me to carry things for other people when I'm carrying other people.  I need to notice the tears in my children's eyes and tend to them before I reach out to someone else. I need to make sure I am charitable, compassionate, and merciful to the people I live and spend the most time with before I extend myself.  This is not to say that I should ignore others - especially when an obvious need is brought to my attention.  It just means I have no reason to feel guilty for not doing more for the world.

Yet I feel called to be bold, to stop being afraid, and to live out my Catholic faith in a very tangible way.  In particular, there are two things that I have wanted to do for a very long time but I've been afraid to attempt.

The first is to greet people by saying, "Praised be Jesus Christ!" or "Jesus Christ is risen!"

I wouldn't greet everyone this way, of course.  I think that I might come off slightly nuts if a waitress approached saying, "How is everyone doing tonight?" and I responded, "Praised be Jesus Christ!"  Awkward.

But I would love to greet my friends that way.  I think it would be such a wonderful way to set the tone for our conversation and to remind us of who we are (an Easter people) and what our lives are supposed to be about (knowing, loving, and serving God).  I know this is not necessarily serving anyone in the common sense of the word, but I do think that it has the possibility of altering attitudes, establishing context, and realigning the day - for myself and those around me. 

My second bold move is to pray in the moment.

Usually when someone is tells me about their life - the worries, joys, or sorrows - I tell the person that I will pray for them.  Sometimes I remember to do so - to specifically lift up the person and situation to God - but usually I don't.  The best that person gets from me is a, "Lord, I give you all the people I promised to pray for."  Not that that's bad, but it can be so much better.

Whether the news I hear is good or bad I want to take a moment to say a prayer with the person to whom I am speaking.  "You're pregnant after two years of trying?  Wow!  Praise God!  Would you join me in a Glory Be?"  "You unexpectedly lost your job?  I'm so sorry.  Could I pray with you right now?"

I think I will have to really pray for the gift of discernment when it comes to putting this bold new move into action, but I think that a lot of beauty can out of it.  I remember a girl I met after a daily Mass in college.  As everyone filtered out of the chapel she knelt crying.  I had never seen her before but I empathized with her.  So instead of leaving the chapel, I said a prayer to the Holy Spirit and knelt next to her.  "My name is Bonnie.  I saw you and I thought I'd come pray with you.  Is that okay?"  With her permission I prayed over her, asking God to heal her wounds, bathe her in His mercy, and show her His love.  It was a beautiful moment and she later found me and thanked me for helping her through that tough time.  It was the only time I've ever done something like that but I can say confidently that I was following the promptings of the Holy Spirit.

Doing these things will definitely be bold moves for me because, quite frankly, I'm afraid to do them.  I am afraid of rejection, having my faith look forced, making my faith look stupid, and making myself look stupid.  I just try to remember that "God did not give us a spirit of fear but of power and love and self-control" and so I can do these things.  I will ease myself into doing them, and probably recruit some people to do them with me.  My hope is that once I am comfortable doing these things amongst those who love me I will able to step out of my comfort zone.  But don't worry - it'll be awkward to do these things around friends and family at first, too! 

What about you?  Would you like to join me?  Or is there some other way you are being bold?  I'd love to hear!