Back from my pirate break, another common search that lands on my fair blog is searching for images of kids with 22q deletion syndrome/DiGeorge's syndrome. I truly hope that whomever stumbles upon my blog with that search finds some comfort when they see photographs of the Dancing Queen. I remember clearly searching for images before my girl was born. Since I had never heard the terms velo cardio facial syndrome, DiGeorge's syndrome, 22q11.2, or Catch 22, I wanted to know what someone looked like. Is it obvious? Will my baby face ridicule simply because of her looks? The thought terrified me when I was pregnant, so much so I was more concerned about the 22q than I was about DQ's heart defects. Luckily, the 22q hasn't thrown us that many curve balls other than the cardiac issues (even if DQ has more "symptoms" than most people I know with the deletion). And I hope when people see my sweet girl they see the beauty in her and it helps them come to terms with whatever they are dealing with.
Today though, I had a new search land on my blog. Someone searched for images of post op for pulmonary atresia. That search caught me off guard. In the past, people had landed here through searching for images of babies on a ventilator, but never specifically looking for images related to my daughter's specific CHD. I couldn't remember what post would hit on that, so I looked and I read my story from last August. And I cried. I cried a lot.
That post was so clear. It was full of facts. It stated life as it was.
Funny thing though. My emotional side had pushed aside a lot of those facts. I had forgotten emotionally that we were never promised a healthy child. I had forgotten emotionally that the doctors told me point blank on the day of DQ's last open heart surgery that they couldn't fix everything that needed fixing. I had forgotten emotionally that last summer was the best her heart was ever going to be.
I knew all of this intellectually. I've said it over and over and over again. Repeated like a mantra, even here. Yet, reading it all again today, it washed over me like a blanket in the night, suffocating me. (I'm drowning, MS, I'm drowning.)
But when my cry was done, I was ready to move on . . . emotionally.
I hope the person who found my blog searching for post op images can enjoy life as well. A diagnosis of pulmonary atresia is scary to say the least. I have too many friends who have said goodbye to their children from this dreadful disease. I have friends saying goodbye right now. But, I also have friends with children thriving and doing remarkably well with pulmonary atresia. Life is good and these kids know how to enjoy it!
Look at that adorable child in a tutu. Oh. My. Gosh. I'm glad that she is living well!
ReplyDeleteGreat post dear friend!
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