Her Heart

Last night, after worrying mommy (more on that in a bit) I was asking Miss Liv how she was feeling. Her response, "I'm sad." I asked why, and she said, "I have half a heart." My mommy heart broke. At times, I've wondered if she understands just what having a half a heart means, but she does. She knows that it means oxygen, and blue lips, and getting tired, and worrying mommy, and on and on and on. After she told me that, we had a nice talk about how special her heart was. I won't go into details since it was one of those special conversations for just us, but it seemed to help. When I tucked her in, she seemed much happier.
Now, onto the worried mommy bit. Yesterday we had a birthday party for Ella with family and friends. My sister mentioned Livie was looking pale, but me, in my party throwing state hadn't noticed. When I finally sat down and had a look at her I noticed Livie looked absolutely awful. I checked her sats and she was in the low 80's. After muttering some expletives under my breath I started changing tubing in case of holes, putting her on a tank in case of a malfunctioning concentrator, and finally upping her oxygen. We finally had to double her oxygen before we saw good numbers. After a few hours we were able to slowly bring her back down to a half liter, but her sats still haven't been what they should be. Tonight she is back up to 3/4 of a liter and I will be watching her very closely.
So, needless to say, I've been a little on the emotionally fragile side of things. So this is where I tie Livie's sadness and my worry into one beautiful little package.
Today we went to church. No big deal really. We've been taking Livie with us to sacrament meeting (first hour of church for those who don't know.) The second we sat down Livie began asking to go sit with Lia, her babysitter. At first I said no. She would have to carry her oxygen with her, and I hate asking others to deal with the tank and tube when they're not used to it. All throughout the following two baby blessings and then the sacrament, Livie begged. She needed to sit with Lia. She HAD to. And me, being the pushover I am, finally said she could after the sacrament. The sacrament ended, and Livie lugged her oxygen over her shoulder, and waltzed up the isle with the biggest smile on her face. She climbed over Lia's brothers and parents just to get to her favorite babysitter, all the while flashing those delicious dimples. As I watched her I noticed Lia's mother getting a little emotional and I thought, as I do when anyone watches my kids, "They think I'm dumping her on them so I can get some peace." After the meeting was over I went to get Liv and told them if it wasn't alright I wouldn't let her do it again. Their response was, "Of course it's alright. She can sit with us anytime." See, they saw her dimples too.
So today, I've sat and worried about Livie's little heart and thought about our conversation last night. I've had a rough week with all this heart stuff. Vader (the concentrator) sits in our living room, puffing away, as this horrible reminder that my baby girl is not whole. I've begun having anxiety (last time, I fully believe, my anxiety was the Spirit warning me about her heart failure) and I, and Livie too apparently, are just feeling worn out. But then tonight, I received an answer to a prayer I hadn't even said. Tonight, my aching mommy heart was given a reminder that my beautiful girl, with all her difficulties and all the setbacks she's had, is perfect. Her purpose here, in this world, in this family, is perfect. I didn't check my phone until after the girls had gone to bed since I rarely get any calls or texts on Sundays. But today I got a text from Lia's mom. She explained that as they walked to church this morning, they discovered that Lia's cat had been run over and that Livie going to sit with her was an answer to a prayer.
Since I got that text, I have been overwhelmed at my Heavenly Father's awareness of all of us. I have been overwhelmed at the reminder of just what Livie was sent here, even with all her issues, to do. Livie was sent here to bless a young girl when she lost her kitty. And through that, she was meant to remind me that her purpose is divine, that no matter what happens, no matter how bad her sats are, no matter what we find in the cath (it is a surety after an email from her cardiologist today) she will not be alone, and I will not be alone. This beautiful little girl, with her half a heart that makes her sad sometimes, proved what I told her last night. Her heart is perfect. Her heart, that told her to pester me until she got her way, knows what her Heavenly Father needs her to do. Her heart is perfect.

Ok. Now that I've made you feel your feels (if not, let's be honest, you're heartless :) ) How about something to remind you that despite Livie being perfect, she is also a preschooler. And a silly one at that.
Story #1: Andrew has road rage. He calls people stupid and idiots. He has a bit of a problem. Livie got a nice experience of this problem when a girl wouldn't turn onto a main road and they were trapped behind her because of her being on the phone and then being slow. Andrew said, "Go, stupid girl!" Livie then proceeded to repeat the same thing when she still wouldn't go. Then, at the next light, Livie yelled at a stopped car "Go, stupid boy!" Dad told her we don't say that and her response was, "Yeah. We don't say that. Only you, daddy."
Story #2: Livie loves her daddy. She never lets me nap or sleep in, but if she wants to watch something while daddy is sleeping her first response is, "I turn it down so daddy can sleep." Even though Andrew will sleep through anything, she is very concerned about the volume.
Story #3: Livie thinks wet floor signs are little dudes doing karate. She sees them and says, "Look, a karate guy!"

And that's it.