The Pratt's Guide to Heart Warrior Parenting

One week after bringing Liam home from an almost five week stay at the hospital, we’re bone weary, but happy. One thing we’ve learned quickly is that Eliza was an easy infant to take care of by every measure.  It has been a long week filled with sleepless nights- moreso than the average parents with a 5 week old. This is mainly due to Liam’s feeding schedule and my pumping. Unlike a normal breastfeeding mom, not only do I pump every 3 hours, I have to prepare it with formula for additional calories. Liam is on an NG tube and his feed is pumped in over a 70 minute span by machine which has to be manually shut off when complete - it will let you know by producing an obnoxiously loud beeping every second until you turn it off (the manual offers no mute option). Pump parts need to be cleaned and set out to dry and then about an hour and a half later we get to do it all over again. The intermittent sleeping is more than a little challenging for daily life and more than once the questio...

You may be surprised to learn that medical professionals, for all their expertise and extensive science-based training, are supremely superstitious. Nurses have rules about which way the lines of the baby blanket run on the bed (always vertical, never horizontal). They never ever positively comment on a good outcome, fearing an immediate reversal of said outcome. Most importantly, they never utter the word “home” in the presence of a patient (or pretty much ever), instead opting for a less than accurate phrase, “going on a field trip.”  I think the superstition is a way of feeling like they have some influence or control over a wholly unpredictable and uncontrollable job. Of course, I welcome the insights of friends in the medical field should I be wrong about that observation. The superstition has grown on me. I follow their rules about the direction of the blanket lines; I have abstained from using the word “home.” I do still commend Liam for his amazing progress with his pract...

Perspective-  True understanding of the relative importance of things; a sense of proportion- from the Oxford English Dictionary Yesterday, I found myself being extra thankful for where we are right now. You may find that statement odd, given that we are in one of the hardest places a parent can imagine, yet I stand by my thankfulness anyway. I attribute this to perspective. Some of you might identify- if you’ve been reading this blog or following our story on Facebook, you may have found yourselves holding your children just a little closer, kissing your sweet newborn’s cheeks just a little more thoughtfully. If nothing else comes out of our experiences other than our friends and family appreciating their lives and families more, it will have been worthwhile. Watching someone else go through a difficult time can impart an appreciation and awareness of how much there is to celebrate and be thankful for in our own lives in ways that we would never otherwise experience- if we...

Much like the well-known “pregnancy wall” wherein a  gloriously glowing woman goes a little insane and begins to wish for her body back around week 36, I’ve discovered there is such a thing as a “hospital wall” and it starts to set in about 2 & 1/2 weeks post-admission.  If you haven’t spent much time in a hospital (like me until only a few short weeks ago), then you may be unfamiliar with the symptoms of hitting the hospital wall. Such side effects include, but are not limited to: Irritability Crying at everything Frustration Cussing (not at providers but definitely to friends and family willing to listen) Depression Simultaneously wanting to be left alone and desperately needing people to be present  I’m sure the list will grow, but those are the main, tell-tale signs.  There is also a tipping point you hit where you go from being an amenable guest to an advocate (i.e.: a parent who knows enough to ask questions and insist on answers). I’m feeling my...

You will learn a lot from doctors and nurses in an ICU setting- you’ll also have the opportunity to observe the miracles of medical research and science at work on a daily basis. The doctors do a great job of setting parents up to expect delays. The old adage, “two steps forward and one step back” is a recurring theme. To their credit, they speak in these terms with compassion and empathy. What they don’t tell you- and can’t- is how hard it is as a parent to watch it all unfold and have no power to stop whatever is going to inevitably happen. Like swimming in a pool of wet cement, it is excruciatingly painful and slow. One of the toughest things I’ve had to watch is the silent crying of my little boy as he’s poked and prodded by doctors and nurses. The ventilator that he needs doesn’t allow him to cry out in pain or discomfort- instead his faces contorts and his mouth opens but there is no sound. Some might view this as a welcome respite, but I want nothing more than to hear the sound...