It's been awhile since I've written on this blog. Just about three months. While it hasn't necessarily be intentional, I've always said that I'll only write here if I have something to say.
So here it is. Having kids is already tough. Talking to kids is already tough. Explaining to your child what happens when they have open heart surgery? Wow.
As we sat at dinner last night, we talked about Josh's uncanny ability to heal quickly (he had a fever earlier this week so it was somewhat topical). And from there, the questions about his medical history started. It's not the first time he's asked questions and I'm glad he asks. That said, answering his questions sometimes isn't the easiest thing to do.
I'm glad he's asking. I want him educated. And he's so smart: his questions are sophisticated and more in-depth.
It's not the clinical stuff. That part is easy to explain -- I've been doing that since he was born.
It's the emotional component: asking about how much pain he was in, why he was sedated after surgery, why he had to breathe on a tube, what's a chest tube and what actually has happened to him. I mean, you're telling your child how his heart was literally held in someone else's hands.
And that's the part that really sucks: trying to explain that without the emotion because, deep down, you know another surgery will be here some day relatively soon and you don't want to scare him. He is still only 10.
I downplay the emotion, the heartache and the fear, but it never actually goes away. It then rehashes every cry, tear and fear we had and still have for him.
However, deep down, I know we are doing the right thing. I know they're hard questions, but I can't shelter him from his history.
As I've always said to others, "It's not about you; it's about him."
About Josh's Mom
By day, Stephanie is in marketing; by night and all other times in between, she's a mom and wife, and highly passionate voice for CHD fundraising and research.