I can’t help but feel nervous again driving to Ellie’s echo. Visions flood my thoughts from what feels like years ago when these appointments further emphasized how heart failure was at one point defining Ellie’s life. There is no need to be nervous this time, no shortness of breath from Ellie, no pale skin, no weakness, but the memory of fear can sometimes be enough. I look forward to these appointments for further clarification that her heart is fixed, right up until the night before. Then, like remembering a horrible dream, I can’t stop thinking about the time when heart surgery was looming. That balanced life of keeping Ellie well enough to get her to the operating table. Our friend Ophelia has the appointment before Ellie, a friendly face in the hallway between appointments. I love our play dates and phone messages with Ophelia and her mom, but I also love how our paths continue to cross at appointments. It makes me see how even if we hadn’t officially met so many months ago, we would have continued to live parallel schedules, crossing again and again, as if forced to connect. Our appointment starts and Ellie is weighed. A task that used to give me butterflies in my stomach but I find myself not so nervous anymore. Over 17 pounds, she has reached the 25th percentile when she use to not even make the charts. The echo goes well. Children seem to sense when their mother’s need them to be strong and both Mya and Ellie are perfect. The doctor smiles when she’s done, no concerns, slight leakage at the valves (normal), low resistance, excellent function, see you in September. A sigh of relief and those scary days begin to feel far away again. I am lucky for so many reasons, for a treatable defect, for amazing doctors and surgeons, and for strong and invincible girls.
MyaAndEllie on Sisters MyaAndEllie on Happy Birthday Eloise Megan on Happy Birthday Eloise Kerry on Sisters MyaAndEllie on Sisters