Saturday, June 12, 2010

"What it's like to be a heart mother"


I read this poem on another "heart mom"s blog and loved it:

"What it's like to be a heart mother"

It's that very first moment,
He's placed in your arms,
A wrinkled red face,
Filled with so many charms,
You can't help but cry,
(As a new mother knows)
You've been waiting so long,
Just to count all his toes,
Then visitors come,
Bearing gifts that are blue,
And they laugh, and snap pictures,
Saying, "He looks like you."
And in just a few days,
(Ahh... the joy and the fun)
You'll be on your way home,
With your beautiful son.


What is it like to be a heart mother?
Again, it's that moment,
You hold your child close,
And cry secret tears,
That a heart mother knows.
In just a few days,
Maybe less,maybe more,
You'll be letting him go,
Asking, what lies in store?
And as your child lays,
In a small isolette,
You think to yourself,
I must not get upset,
And as family arrives,
You try hard to stay strong,
But your tired eyes say,
That this all seems so wrong.
You know what is coming,
Though your still not prepared,
He will leave your safe arms,
To have his heart repaired.


What does it mean to be a mother?
It is nights with no sleep,
It is feedings and spit up,
It is watching him roll,
And then finally sit up.
It is knowing this child,
Depends on you most,
It's those everyday milestones,
in which, you can boast.
And yes... there is crying,
(At time's it's quite loud)
But when he says,, "Mama".
He makes you so proud.


A heart mother...

Ahh.. yes little rest,
As the monitors beep,
And you begin to question,
Is there such thing as sleep?
And you can't go home yet,
And your kid's ask each day,
"Will we see you soon mommy?
Can you come home and play?
Real soon... you promise,
Yes...I miss you too",
And then people ask,
How you do what you do.
And you stroke his forehead,
And his fist is unfurled,
And you know for this child,
You would give all the world.


A mother...

Time passes quickly,
Soon he's off to school,
And before you know it,
Hugs just aren't "cool",
He's a teenager now,
With dreams of his own,
And one day it hits you,
My child, has grown.
And though you are proud,
For all he's achieved,
Life passed more quicly,
Than you could have believed.


A heart mother...

You've always strived to live each day,
As if it were the last,
As the mother of a heart child,
You know things can change fast.
You've seen so many familes,
Endure things you can't understand,
And while you trust that God is good,
Sometimes you just don't understand.
But you go on, because you must,
God chose you for him, and no other,
Your stronger that you could imagine,
You have become a heart mother.


Every mother...

And every mother's journey,
Begins on that day when,
She knows with everything she is,
A mother, she has always been.
Crayon marks cover all the walls,
Muddy prints scatter the floor,
Toys and messes everywhere,
And yes... laundry galore.
I must have the best job that there is,
(Despite all the clutter and mess)
My children.. they remind me,
Life shouldn't be such a stress.
Each and every day we have,
(To laugh, to hug, to play)
Is a memory I'll always have,
And nothing, can take that away.
I wouldn't trade a moment,
Or all that they've taught me to see,
I'm blessed to be a mother,
It's more than I'd dreamed it could be.

~Stephanie Husted

3 comments:

Connor my little frog said...

I love this one too

f I could write your story son...


(Oh how I wish I could)

I'd pen for you a journey...

That held nothing but good.

Wouldn't it be perfect...

If that job belonged to me?

I think I'd change a thing or two...

While writing your story.

I'd write of lasting happiness...

The storms would stay at bay..

I"d write your story carefully...

I'd have so much to say...

You'd know not of a hospital...

Or days in ICU...

You'd only know of simple things...

Like other children do.

The sun would rise...yes everyday...

And shine to make you smile...

You'd never know a day of pain...

You'd never face a trial.

You'd dance to music all your own...

While watching Sesame Street...

I'd tuck you into bed each night...

And life would be complete.

I'd write of picnics in the park...

And winters in the snow...

I'd write of laugher,joy and love...

I'd sit and watch you grow.

I'd proofread till my eyes grew tired...

Each line and paragraph...

And let my pen fall to the floor...

Then stop to hear you laugh.

And never would I question...

What sick children must face...

Never would I have a need...

To ask God for his grace.

I'd likely live oblivious...

Of what it means to be...

A member of this "special club"...

I call my heart family.

If I could write your journey son...

Perhaps I'd not convey...

The message that HE longs to share...

"We must live for today".

Your story has been written...

Each stroke penned with great care...

He knows each thought I have of you...

He's numbered every hair.

No I can't write your story son...

Although I wish I could...

I must heed what HE says to me...

"All things work for the good".

If I could write the life you'd live...

I'd fail...don't you see?

I'll leave it in much better hands...

He'll write it perfectly.---- Stephanie Husted

Stephanie Ellinger said...

I love that poem! I hope that you guys don't get rescheduled again. Yikes - we never had to deal with that.

Brittany said...

OH MY GOSH THAT POEM IS PRECIOUS! AT LEAST YOU KNOW YOU ARE NOT ALONE! LOVE YOU GUYS!