The Pratt's Guide to Heart Warrior Parenting

/Begin Nerd Moment/ So, since I used The Lord of the Rings  as a reference earlier in my blog, it is only fitting that I continue that analogy. As we head into surgery day, we know we are walking the safest path. Unfortunately, it has its fair share of uncertainty and danger. The Norwood procedure is the most complex and precarious of the 3 surgeries Liam will need ( What is the Norwood Procedure? ). Not unlike deciding to trek through the Mines of Moria, we are confident this is the best course while also recognizing nothing is guaranteed. Will we get through the dark tunnel of this surgery? What kind of balrogs will we encounter along the way?  /End Nerd Moment/ As I write this, Logan and I are waiting by Liam’s bedside for the doctors to come and take him to the OR. I am by turns ready and wholly unprepared for that moment. After Liam is taken, we still need to take our daughter to day care- performing a normal ritual that helps with Eliza’s consistent schedule. We must ...

It’s not from a leaky toilet or a curious little girl with a hammer and it can’t be fixed by calling a handyman or contractor. This hole doesn’t have a simple solution and it’s only observable to the keen eye. It comes in the form of sleep-filled, quiet nights, the laughter or crying of only one kid instead of two. It’s in the absence of that age old cooing that every family member makes while leaning over Mom or a bassinet. This hole is Liam-shaped and it won’t be repaired for some time.  I realized while recovering in the maternity ward how much I and many others have taken for granted the ability to just leave the hospital with our newborns forever. Go forth and keep this little human being alive for the next 18 years. It’s a scary business getting in a car to go be parents with little to no experience, but how sweet it is to leave the hospital with only the worries of a normal baby to keep you on your toes. I mourn the loss of that sweet moment of stepping through the front do...

Honestly Alert: I kind of hate the song "It is Well with My Soul." It's not the words (believe it or not) or the accompanying music that rubs me the wrong way these days. It's the way in which it is sung in our churches. Someone I respect noted recently that churches in America tend to view this song as an anthem- something to be sung victoriously. And sure, there is victory in surrender and acknowledgement of God's sovereignty in the midst of intense grief, fear, and/or pain, but this song was likely written in the darkest of places under the most painful of circumstances- the deaths of the lyricist's children. Horatio Spafford's loss is undoubtedly one of the most tragic stories you'll ever hear. Of the eight children he and his wife, Anne, had together, only two survived to adulthood. As many may already know, four daughters drowned when a passenger ship crossing the Atlantic Ocean sunk- his wife was the only survivor in the family in that horrifi...

With only 24 days left before our planned induction, I find my initial thoughts on the complications of rest in a time of anxious anticipation completely on target. In the quiet of the day when there is nothing to do but think, I am confronted with the reality of what is before us. The feeling settles like a melancholic stone in the stomach- it is a combination of fear and a sense of entrapment that can make the strongest spirit wither. Of course, there are parts of each day which are filled with fun and laughter and I hold on to those beautiful spots the way a social-media-crazed teenager clings to their smart phone, but the depth of emotion is found in the quiet spots when I am confronted by the stark reality that, very soon, I will have to watch my infant son be wheeled into an OR to be split open and rewired for his very survival. This act and all the emotions I already deeply feel surrounding this future inevitability strikes me at my very core. Like Frodo's wound from the bat...

"A word is nothing but a painting of a fire. A name is the fire itself."- Patrick Rothfuss By now, some of you have heard what we've decided to name our son. We had always been torn mightily between two options and the one we've picked (I think) is absolutely the right one. Before I tell you what it is, let me explain why we languished for so long. Some might accuse me of being superstitious, but I believe deep within me that a name is more than a differentiation between two people standing next to one another. It identifies us- it shapes  who we are. Scripture is full of instances in which God renames his people or instructs people to name others. In one instance, a man struck mute only regains his voice when he names his son as the Lord commanded. We named our daughter "Eliza" because it means "God fulfills his oath." That name has a rich story behind it- one that we intend to share with her when she is old enough to understand it and ap...

My feet still  hurt over a week past our move-in date- 54,925 steps over 4 days will do that to you, I guess. The push to get out of our old house and fully into our new home was marked by incredible "just in time" help from a small army of friends and acquaintances which we can never fully appreciate enough and which we could never fully repay. After what has felt like a long and grueling journey, we have arrived in our new home 8 weeks prior to our son's anticipated arrival. WARNING: Nerd Moment Ahead... So, not unlike Frodo's journey, we find ourselves safely escaped from The Shire (naive, pre-diagnosis), past Bree, the Wilderness, and just beyond Weathertop into the restful haven of Rivendell to recuperate from the initial stages of our journey. In total, it was just over 13 weeks since the day we learned our son has HLHS until the day we moved into our home- 92 days of planning, preparation, and non-stop action that culminated in Logan getting the Flu and une...

The week leading up to closing has been jam-packed. Tuesday, we signed off on our buyer's Due Diligence requests- completing the process of selling our house a day early. Yesterday, Logan and I celebrated 9 years of marriage and had our 2nd to last Fetal ECHO. That doesn't include our day jobs, all the quotes on home repairs we're working through with our agent, or the massively unenjoyable temper tantrums we are blitzed with at all hours of the day and night. Our faerie-like daughter has begun to moonlight as a super villain and she is (unfortunately) quite good at it. The Fetal ECHO went as hoped- no new complications. It's funny what good news looks like when you live in bad news, but we'll take the good news however and whenever it appears. While we are not yet booked for our induction, we have a pretty decent idea of when that will happen, so things are starting to take real shape. We are sustained by the raw excitement of moving into a new place and all the ...