Your Meal Meant the World to Me

The power of a meal is amazing. In the early days, a family would break bread with friends as a genuine showing of true love and affection.  The traditional meal wasn’t what it has become today where everyone makes a brief appearance at the coffee table for a few bites only to run off minutes later.  Friends would eat at a table and spend hours together in celebration.  I love this traditional view of a meal shared with others.  I think about that whenever Heather and I hang out with other families.  

This brings me to another point.  We have been blessed to have numerous families deliver meals after every one of our babies were born.  I never knew this tradition existed until Ivy (our first) was born.  I remember receiving a bunch of calls from friends asking if they could bring us dinner.  I didn’t understand what was going on.  As the days [after the birth] rolled by and our bodies went into zombie mode, I started to understand the priceless gesture that many were willing to extend.  I would have rather secured a few minutes worth of sleep then throw a corndog in the microwave.  It all started to add up.  

Those meals were delicious.  It also felt like those who brought them were sharing an important part of their own lives.  Many took the time to make traditional family recipes.  Others brought burritos and items from our favorite restaurants.  I could sense a feeling of fulfillment as they passed the trays over to us.  And if any of you are reading this, I wanted to tell you that every last scrap was consumed in full.

As a new parent [three times], these particular acts of kindness stand out in my mind.  The impact has been so great, that Heather has signed up to bring meals to new parents on multiple occasions. 

Numerous churches have sign-ups available for the delivery of meals to new parents.  If you have the ability to make a good meal, or even buy an amazing burrito, I would encourage you to sign up.  The value of this particular act can be measured in the eyes of the new parents when you make your delivery.  

Elden's Broken Heart

We brought our little guy home from the hospital today.  He was born on Sunday, August 11, 2013, at 9:50 PM.  Elden is the third and final addition to this little family of ours.  If you ask me, I’d say he rounds it all out perfectly.  My little man.  

Whenever people used to ask me if I wanted a boy or a girl, I would always say that it didn’t matter, as long as he/she was healthy.  I even wrote “Healthy” on the {Wish List} board in the delivery room.  All of the tests and monitoring suggested that it would be so.

The pediatric doctors discovered a murmur.  Murmurs are quite common among babies who arrive a little earlier than scheduled and are also quite common amongst newborns in higher altitude areas.  Their words were reassuring and I did my best to stay away from the Google search page (WebMD).

To be on the safe side, the doctor ordered an echocardiogram (ultrasound) for Elden to ensure that the issue could be nailed down as an innocent murmur.  I learned something new today during the scan.  Doctors have the best poker faces ever. 

We learned that God built Elden’s heart a little differently than other babies.  Elden has Tetralogy of Fallot which means that there are four abnormalities, or defects, in his little heart.  This includes an enlarged aorta, a thickened muscle wall (right ventricle), a hole in the muscle wall separating the right and left ventricles, and a narrow outflow tract.  Essentially, the heart is working harder to get blood where it needs to go.  

As I mentioned above, the doctor had a great poker face but his voice couldn’t help but break as he revealed that our little guy would have to have open-heart surgery in the near future to fix the abnormalities flashing before my eyes on the ultrasound scanner.

I can handle a lot of things.  Stress, pain, loss, defeat, or whatever.  It takes everything in me to hold it together when it comes to harm or pain as it relates to my children.  As a dad, I feel as though I should be able to fix anything as well as protect my children from any harm that might come their way.  I hate feeling completely helpless.  So as I stood in front of the doctor, I felt as though he might see all the worldly definitions of what it takes to “be a man” falling from my face into a dusty pile right at his feet.  At least that is what my face felt like.

The human mind always defaults to the worst-case scenario.  Mine did today.  How could it not?  This happens to five out of every ten thousand babies.  We are a part of the statistic. 

I’ve had a chance to sit on this for most of the day.  Although this condition isn’t what you would normally like to discover as you’re waiting for your discharge papers, I don’t really think I’d have it any other way. 

Elden was made from the best parts that Heather and I could muster.  God formed every moving part within Elden’s little shell including his unique heart.  God also made minds so brilliant that they will be able to delicately place tools into his chest and fix all of these abnormalities.

My son is perfect, broken heart or not.  He is perfect to me.  He is perfect to Heather.  And he is perfect in God’s eyes.

Although the prognosis is good, we are scared.  I guess that is sort of a natural reaction, right?  Heather and I are asking for your prayers.  We serve a very powerful God and place all faith in His plan for our little boy.  We would appreciate prayers for healing and for peace until we walk out of the hospital from a successful surgery.

[As of right now, we don’t know when the surgery will be.  We have to watch for specific warning signs and will be attending monthly check-ups.  The doctors would like to stretch it out for as long as he can go.  They’d like him to have as much strength and weight as possible before they do the surgery.  Until then, we pray, and we shower him with love.]

Thank You.  Sincerely. 

Steven S. Press