20 2020 Things I Am Grateful For

1. A healthy baby. Our baby boy was born in September. About halfway through the pregnancy, during a routine ultrasound, we found out that his heart rate was very low. A normal fetal heart rate is about 120-160 beats per minute. His was 56. We were told he probably wouldn’t survive.

2. Medical science. We soon discovered the baby had heart block. An antibody in my blood had attacked the node in the heart that the upper and lower chambers communicate through. The damage had been done, but I started taking steroids to prevent more damage. The steroids gave me gestational diabetes (and weird facial hair, acne, and extra weight gain, if that wasn’t enough), but there was insulin for that. The heart rate was slow, but he could survive and have a pacemaker inserted. Mortality increased with full-term babies, but he could be born early. A natural birth was out of the question, but I could have a C-section.

3. Healthcare. We had access to some of the best pediatric cardiologists in the country. Perinatologists. Neonatologists. Weekly ultrasounds and echocardiograms. The wait times at appointments were long and COVID threw extra monkey wrenches, but we had timely access to every service we needed and paid for nothing out of pocket.

4. Timing. The day we found out about the slow heart rate I had to go to our local Emergency alone. No visitors or support person because of Covid. I went to the big city hospital by ambulance. Alone. I was told that if there was a heart beat in the morning I’d see a specialist so “try and get some sleep.” Alone. The next morning the rules changed, and I was allowed a support person. Jon rushed to the hospital for the 7:00 am ultrasound that determined if we would be seeing a specialist or going home without a baby. And he was allowed to come to every appointment with me after that.

5. Prayer. Man, I was praying like never before that first night. And my parents and grandma were praying and my sister and a close friend. And then some family friends. Then neighbours. Then people we didn’t even know. Whole congregations of churches we’d never been to. People prayed for us. People told us they were praying. And it meant the world.

6. Family. A little girl and a husband that saw me at my worst (I also blame steroids for some pretty crazy mood swings) and loved me through it all. Parents and in-laws that took time off work to babysit while l went to appointments. A sister that checks in, even when I don’t always reciprocate. A mom that shows love with hot meals and mopped floors and clean laundry.

7. Old friends. Or I should say, an old friend. One of those friends who knows you almost as well as you know yourself. Who you can share everything with and have a good ol’ ugly cry in front of.

8. New friends. Friends who accept you into the group that’s already kind of established, by creating a little opening big enough to squeeze into. Friends that laugh at your jokes and make you laugh til you cry. Friends that you always leave feeling better than when you arrived.

9. Group texts. All the GIFs and disjointed banter. The constant dings when your ringer is on. The wrong group text is a nightmare, but the right one is the best.

10. A job. There were constant changes. There were masks and gloves and hand sanitizer and face shields and so many Zoom meetings, but I’m thankful that I was able to stay employed throughout Covid.

11. Sick Time. I don’t like using sick time, but I was grateful I could use it for medical appointments over the summer. It’s easy to take for granted, but there are lots of people who don’t have it and need it.

12. NICU Nurses. Our baby was transported to the U of A shortly after he was born, while I stayed at the Royal Alex to recover. We knew that was the plan, but it was hard to be separated. Newborns belong with their mothers. I went to see him the next day on a pass. It was brutal. Tubes and wires everywhere. He wasn’t allowed to eat. “He’s so hungry,” one of the nurses told me. I was a wreck. Two babies per room. One nurse. And those nurses were pure gold. I watched the way they talked to the babies and cared for them. How they re-arranged all the wires and tubes every time you wanted to hold your baby, without complaint. How they tried to make the parents as comfortable as possible. How they tried to make the babies as comfortable as possible. You gain a whole new appreciation for nurses when you are relying on them to look after a completely dependent newborn in your absence.

13. Technology. I already mentioned the ultrasounds and echocardiograms and pacemaker. But thank God for technology to help us connect during Covid. It has been an isolating time, but we have the ability to talk to people on the phone, to share parts of our lives on social media, to text and FaceTime and Zoom, to connect instantaneously.

14. Community. When we brought our baby home people dropped off cards and casseroles and baby gifts and presents for our toddler so she wouldn’t feel left out. People we knew from work, from theatre and hockey, parent friends, parents’ friends, and neighbours. It made me feel a part of and really appreciate our little community.

15. Mental health supports. I’ve gone to a counselor off and on for a few years now. It’s helped me with coping strategies. When my pregnancy got complicated, I made a list of strategies (I should have included making lists in my list!). Here’s what I came up with: deep breathing, Calm app, self talk (“I am strong. I can do hard things.”), letting myself feel and cry, saying thank you instead of apologizing, telling close people what’s going on, reaching out, writing down things I’m grateful for and sharing them, asking for help, taking care of myself, and being prepared. And sometimes I knew what I needed to do, but I just couldn’t. So I didn’t.

16. Timing, again. These past few weeks have been extra hard. Full-time parenting a toddler and a newborn. No grandparents to help, no aunties or friends to hold the colicky baby for a few minutes or entertain the three year-old while you eat something or have a shower. Christmas without family. But our baby was born before the public health restrictions increased. Family and close friends got to meet him and hold him when he came home. And they will again.

17. My husband. He really has seen me at my worst. Short-tempered, stressed, burnt-out, lonely, not to mention the facial hair. It hasn’t been pretty. But he is a really good person, and I’m lucky to have him.

18. Resilience. Life is hard, but we were made to do hard things. I’ve seen so much resilience this past year. People finding ways to make it work. Businesses. Families. Public health officials. Governments. Healthcare professionals. Essential workers. “Non-essential” workers. It isn’t perfect, but I believe everyone is doing the best that they can with what they have.

19. Hope. Just hope.

20. Miracles. Our little guy only spent a week in the NICU. His heart rate remains slow, but now they are saying he doesn’t have complete heart block, only second degree block. If we didn’t have to check his heart rate during the day, we’d forget that he even has a heart condition. He will need monitoring throughout his life, but he may never need a pacemaker. He can lead a normal, active life. We named him Liam. It means “strong-willed warrior.” And he is.

    Here’s to a new year.