One Year

“When you have come to the edge

Of all light that you know

And are about to drop off into the darkness

Of the unknown,

Faith is knowing

One of two things will happen:

There will be something solid to stand on or

You will be taught to fly.”

June 23 is as significant a date to me as Margot's first birthday. I see it as her "rebirth" day, the day her heart was lovingly and carefully repaired by the amazing pediatric cardiac surgeons at the Children's Hospital of Eastern Ontario. Today I will share my photos of that day and the days following, and we'll celebrate with a cake...we made it!

We arrived early at the hospital; Margot was hungry (as she often was then), but settled quickly by sucking on my trusty little finger.

This was taken just outside the OR; notice her (too big) hospital gown!

This was one of the hardest moments of the day: handing her off to the anesthesiologist. I shut down around this time. This wasn't denial so much as a survival instinct. I knew there was no way around it: if I wanted her to live, I had to trust other people to take care of her. This was the moment that I stepped off the ledge of all that I know.

CHEO pays attention to the littlest details. A room was set aside just for us, with a breast pump for me, magazines, couches, and a television. My sisters joined Robin and I for the day. A most moving moment was when I opened a giftbag put together by my dear friends at Twig and Toadstool and Wabi Sabi Wanderings, including notes and treats from our circle of mamas. I felt their arms around me that day, and their love and support sustained me. One of the sweetest gifts was a red beaded bracelet from my friend Marcia; she had worn it in labour with her youngest son, and passed it on to me as a reminder that the blood in Margot's veins was mine, and that this would keep her strong during the hours that we'd be apart.

I passed the morning knitting a little heart fairy for Margot, and we all got pedicures (including Robin; guess which feet are his!) from my sister Julie, while getting regular updates from the surgeon's nurse. We laughed and prayed and played cards to pass the time.

After about 3 hours, the nurse came to let us know that the surgery was done, had been successful, and that Dr. Maharajh just wanted to observe Margot in the ICU for a little while before he came to talk to us. He arrived after about an hour. I can tell you what true gratitude feels like, because I almost collapsed at this man's feet. He is the epitome of humility. I told him how hard it was for me to relinquish control and to trust him to do this surgery, but that I knew I had no choice; I can do many things, but heart surgery isn't one of them. His reply? "Well, I don't know how to knit". He gestures to the heavens when praised for what he does; in his opinion, he is "just" using his gift for good. After many grateful hugs, he gave us the go-ahead to visit our girl in the ICU.

You'd think that this was the hardest moment of the day. But I knew she'd survived, and that it was all uphill from here. I kissed her little face, and after staying as late as we possibly could, I went back to my cousin's house (the same cousin who offered her house as a birthing place for Jude!) to spend my first night ever away from Margot. While pumping during the night, I'd call and speak to her own personal nurse for reassurance that she was resting and pain-free.

The next evening, she was moved up to the surgical floor, where she spent a week healing.

Here is the doll I made while I waited through the surgery, wearing the t-shirt printed by my friend Maureen (it's a muscle-bound heart!), and a reminder posted for the nurses. This was to prevent putting stress on her sternum.

Daddy Bear went home the day after the surgery to take care of the older two, and was amazed at how much Margot had healed by Saturday.

Margot had/has what is called "Tetrology of Fallot", a genetic condition that appears in about 1 in 10,000 in the general population, but occurs in 1 in 100 once it is in a family. Robin's grandmother had an aunt who died as a young girl (under 10) from a "heart condition". This would have been about 100 years ago. It is now suspected that she too had this quirky heart: a large hole between the ventricles, a small one between the atriums, thickening of the left ventricle, and perhaps most strangely, an aorta that arches to the left instead of the right.

To patch the largest hole, the surgeons sewed in a circle of Gore-tex. No kidding! This provides a bridge so that the heart cells can cross over and eventually cover the patch. That little circle stays there forever, and Margot's heart will just grow around it. AMAZING! It is even more amazing when you consider that Margot's heart wasn't much bigger than a walnut at the time.

Margot needs annual checkups at CHEO, as she still has a leak here and there, and will live with a heart murmur. I think of Robin's great aunt, and how her mother must have suffered to see her child weaken and die. Babies the world over are born with reparable heart quirks (we don't use the word "defects" in this house). Some of them have access to surgery and others don't. I can't imagine what their mothers must go through, knowing that there is a surgery out there that could save their child's life, but not being able to afford it, or even access it. Dr. Maharajh spends his holidays each year doing a heart-surgery-marathon in his native Trinidad. He brings a team from CHEO with him (also volunteers), and fixes as many tiny hearts as he can manage.

I don't think my child deserved this surgery more than any other child. Am I grateful that she was born in this time, in this place? You betcha. The love, support, encouragement, and hope everyone so generously poured into our family meant so much. It was everything to us, and to this little girl.

Margot looks ahead into a bright and healthy future; who knows what wonders she'll behold?