This is a song for the brokenhearted....

January is a weird month for us.  Three years ago, on Martin Luther King Day, our regular OB was sure it was "just his face down position" that was making it hard to see the left side of his heart...I am sick to my stomach just thinking about it.  I just knew..I knew by the way the ultra sound tech kept spending so much time with his heart, how she took in a long deep breath when Nate asked if everything was okay..and the answer will forever play in my mind..."the doctor will go over everything with you"...

Our OB made up an appointment with a high risk doctor.  It would be in two days...I spent those days telling myself that everything was okay...praying and crying when I was alone..  like a blessing from heaven it snowed the next day and school was closed for two days...I could not imagine having to go to work with this unknown hanging over my head.

That Wednesday we had our high risk appointment and that was the day my sons broken heart, broke mine as well.  And just like Xavier's, my heart will never be fixed..it will never be whole again.   Please do not think that my heart is not full and blessed, because it is...its just not whole.  No mother who has to sign a paper saying they understand that a risk of what is about to happen to their newborn is death, can ever really be whole again.  No mother who has to put their 4 day old baby in the arms of a stranger, begging them to please bring him back, can ever really be whole again.  No mother who watches their child silently cry in pain over a vent, will ever be the same again.  No mother who holds their child down to have their blood taken yet again, can feel truly whole.  No mother who uses words like seizure, stroke, cardiac arrest, blood clots, heart failure and transplant when talking about their newborn, 4 month old, 10 month old, one year old, 15 years old, 20 year old child can every truly be the same.

My heart is broken, never to be made whole again...Xavier's heart is broken, never to be made whole again...but.... every time he recovers, my heart gets a band aide .. every time he is discharged, my heart is mended....every time he reaches a milestone, my heart gets a stitch...every time he giggles at me my heart is pieced back together.

SO our hearts are broken, but mended.  Our hearts are not whole, but they are full.  Our hearts are imperfectly perfect, beautifully broken, wonderfully made and artfully mended by the hands of God.  I will never be the same as I was before that appointment three years ago...I will continue to get better because of my broken heart!!