I may have mentioned that I got the rights back to my book, Heart Warriors, A Family Faces Congenital Heart Disease. I am almost done with rewriting it to include my journey with post traumatic stress disorder, but that journey is still unfolding. Tonight is an anniversary – the anniversary of my child’s first surgical scar. It’s on his wrist. It’s still there. I sometimes see it at the dinner table. Unlike the scars on his chest or groin, which I never see anymore now that he’s seventeen, the ones… Read more An Anniversary Book Excerpt →
During my first pregnancy my son was diagnosed with congenital heart defects that were “incompatible with life.” Through the following years of multiple open-heart surgeries and other invasive surgical procedures on and around his heart, I was very open about his medical history because I wanted and needed to be understood. I needed people who didn’t know anything about CHD to know about it. I was living through something I never expected when I longed to be a mother. What came of that was a connection with others living the same… Read more Half-heart, Whole Body: Part One, A Poster Child Retires →
Today my friend Jan died. She was forty-six years old and celebrated a birthday just a couple of weeks ago. Now, she’s gone. Even before I had a child with severe CHD, I thought death was pervasive in my life, from my dad and friend Mary, to coworkers and former classmates. I felt I knew more than my quota of loss. Since becoming a heart mom it’s different. There was a time when every death shook me and reminded me that this family could have been our family. Then my… Read more Good-bye Good Friend →
I am not sleeping, so I will write. Tonight (which is now yesterday) at dinner, Liam asked, “Do you know what today is?” and Jim and I looked at each… Read more It Was a Monday →
My friend George died on April 29th. I wrote most of this post on May 1st, but it seemed too soon. I left it here in my draft folder and… Read more My Friend George →
I strongly believe every one’s happiness is his/her own responsibility. I can’t make anyone happy except myself, and no one can make me happy except me. I hold that standard… Read more It Can’t be Bought →