I never knew heart defects were really real until January 28, 2006. When I first learned that they exist, I screamed inside that they weren't fair. I cried for my baby who had them. As I sat there with a cardiologist alone, except for my four year old son who was busy with the toys in the waiting room, I cried for my son, who still was safely in my womb, for all the suffering that was coming his way when he arrived into the world.
Somehow, I learned to accept it and move on. I wonder if I could've called myself naive in the sense that I had no idea what the real situation would be. But my teachings tell me to be kind to myself, so I let it go.
I looked back at the woman I was back then almost seven years later. She was so different than me in so many ways. She was friendly and easy to get along with and she was loving, but she was unkind to herself. She didn't fully live. She accepted what people told her, whether it was right or wrong. She was closed off to herself and her world, barely living.
My experience with congenital heart defects was the worst and best thing for me. It destroyed my world as I knew it. No longer could I hide from myself, I was forced to ask for help. Many times, the door was shut on my face, but I was forced to keep looking and asking for help. It took my blinders off and forced me to see certain people in my life who hurt me more than they loved me. It forced me to see how strong and determined I really was. It forced me to see that no matter what was thrown at me, I could handle it. It forced me to find my spirituality and embrace it with all of my soul. It forced me to openly show love and to receive it.
What I learned from my love for my son is I am willing to do whatever it takes for the people I love. I learned to forgive and not judge. I learned to pray for miracles and I learned to accept them and share them with others so they in turn do the same. I learned it takes a village to raise me. I learned to laugh again. I learned gratitude. I learned peace.
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