Life shattering heart break brought me here. Its a strange thing…to start, something, anything. I want to just give a little introduction to our story, our journey that we’ve been on.
Seventeen weeks ago my world changed. We were given the life changing news that our beautiful baby had a serious heart condition. A Congential Heart Defect, or CHD as i’ve so unfondly come to know it. That day is a story in itself. And i’ll save it for another day…it’s a hard one, and I just dont have the energy tonight. Fifteen weeks ago I packed a single suitcase and left my home, my husband and my two beautiful boys to move 5 hours away. I was expected to be there until the birth, and then for a few weeks after. My then not quite four year old and not quite two year old were completely rattled. They simply didnt understand why Mama was suddenly gone. All I heard most nights on the phone were tears, from my end as well as theirs. But that too is for another day. I moved to be close to Mt. Sinai Hospital in Toronto, ont. to wait for the birth of my baby boy. He would need to be transported to Sick Kids directly after birth.
Killian Mather Mckessock Waddell was born at 9:38 pm on September 4, 2018. He looked perfect. He looked healthy. He wasn’t. He had a severely broken heart. I didn’t think that my soul could handle any more that day. Two days later I learned that I didn’t have a choice. It was discoved that Killian’s heart was far more damaged than initially thought. He would need to be listed for a heart transplant. We were told to expect to be inpatient at Sick Kids for a very long time, a year or more not being unheard of.
So we adapted, again. We worked out travel, child care, kids, Killian, life. And we waited for that call. The big one. A heart. It was hard. It was really hard, and really scary. But we found our groove. Killian was a beautiful, funny, calm baby. Just looking at him you would never once guess that his body was betraying him.
The weekend of October 13, my husband Dean came down, by himself, so we could spend a weekend together. We enjoyed each others company, went shopping for all the tools and equipment that I needed for Killian. So we could give him the best possible upbringing we could. We spent time just sitting with him, together, the first time we’d been able to do that since his first week of life.
At 11:10am on October 15, Dean text me from his room. “You should get here, now”. I was putting some things in our car. I ran. I ran into a room full of Doctors and Nurses. They weren’t panicked, but they were working. Trying to even his heart out. By 11:25 they were doing chest compressions on him while we held his hand. At 11:40 they unhooked him from all his IV’s and probes, and put him in my arms. He died at 11:45. A day shy of six weeks old.
This blog is for him, about him, about me, about grief, about hope, about the truth of this horrible hand of cards that no one wants. I have so much to say. I have so much to remember, and I hope you can remember him with me.