When Val was born, she had that awful, horrible teeny hole in her heart
that made me question every ounce of caffeine I'd consumed while
pregnant, every time I'd eaten something not on the Perfect Pregnancy
Diet (whatever that would be), any thing I'd done to cause that tiny
hole, that extra whoosh when you listened to her tiny heart.
For the 18 months that hole remained in her chest, I held my hand over
her heart every day and prayed to my Grandma and a God I'm not sure how
I feel about that my little girl's heart would be whole. We went to
cardiologist appointments, appointments. I breastfed an irate infant,
desperate to comfort a baby who cold, and scared, hooked up to more
wires than I'd ever wanted to imagine could fit on my little girl. At
those appointments we heard first that it would close by a year, then we
heard that we'd need to give Val antibiotics when she went to the
dentist because it might never heal. We waited and hoped for a tiny
miracle just big enough to close that hole.
I bargained with God, just a bit. I'm pretty sure it was something
along the lines of 'seriously, Nice Man In The Sky, I won't ask for
anything else if you could please just coax the muscle together.'
And don't you know, that 18 months later, 18 not 12, we finally, at long
last, heard that the hole had closed. We had gotten our miracle. It
was enough. It was way more than enough. It will always be the thing
for which I am most grateful.
So now, as I find myself once again asking that Nice Man In The Sky for
a favor - for a little help in adding just one more child to our family,
I have to wonder if we won't get that. Because I already got what I
asked for - I got Val's heart, made whole.
And if that's how it's to be, then yes, it is most certainly fair
Tonight, as I do many nights, I told Val some stories about how she was
born. For the first time, I told her about the hole in her heart and
even now, more than a year after our miracle, and I couldn't help but
cry a bit as I remembered just how scared I was during that time. What
I didn't say was that I will always blame myself for that tiny hole,
even though I have no idea what I could have done differently.
I also told her how she peed as she was born and she laughed, a deep
belly laugh. She's one of us all right.
That's more than fair enough.