Wednesday, 5 June 2013
And that's where we were heading. The big wide world. We hoped. We prayed. I had been "going home" too many times now, only to be disappointed. But this seemed different. We had had the go ahead from Dr Rigby himself...
The Doctor checked over Heidi, requested a final ECG and suggested some further medication. Then he smiled, said he'd make us an appointment for next week, and that was it. We were going home.
I was elated, and what followed was a mad dash of getting everything together, as we had 25 minutes before Dave's parking ticket ran out (never try and park at the Brompton!) and possibly the slowest, most laid back and dawdly nurse in the entire universe (she was lovely but had no concept of urgency... and that's putting it mildly!)
After tooing and froing between the hospital and the pharmacy (don't get me started on that fiasco) we were finally on our way home. Heidi slept in her little car seat beside me, as the sun beat down. After being "locked up" for 22 days, the fresh air and sunshine was exhilarating.
Dave and his Dad chatted in the front while I looked down at our baby girl and the heaviness set in again. As always, my emotions flitting from ecstacy one minute at how far we've come, how bad this could have been and how well Heidi seems, to that deep ache that things will never be the same again. My baby girl's heart is damaged and even the most expert Doctors in the country can do nothing but sit and wait and see what happens... that's hard. It's tough. Its raw.
But I'm also thankful for all that this journey has taught us so far. It has shaken our world to the core, but thats not always a bad thing. When life is easy, its all to easy for God to be a spectator with the occasional say; when life takes a tumble, you find you're clinging to him for dear life. And clinging to him is where the real heart stuff happens, where you meet him in a deeper, more real way. He's at the peaks and in the deepest, darkest valleys. I know that.
People keep asking what they can do for us. We honestly want only one thing. We would love people to commit to pray for our Heidi. Not just in the immediate future, not just while things are still fresh and raw, but into the aftermath. Into the years of hospital visits and medication that she will have. Into the childhood years, the tweens and the teens and beyond. If people would commit to pray for her, we would be so thankful.
For now, we sit in our home, with our little girls sleeping upstairs, somehow beginning to comprehend the past 3 weeks. The adrenalin rush has stopped and this is where reality hits. The next few weeks will be tough for all of us as we adjust, as Heidi's heart condition becomes normality, as stuffing your baby daughter with medication starts to become part of the daily routine. Please pray for us. The adjustment will not be easy.
So thank you, again, from the bottom of our hearts. We know we are truly blessed.