Baby Maverick

This blog was created to keep family and friends updated on what's going on with the pregnancy, birth, and surgical plan for Maverick. We'll also be able to keep everyone updated during his surgery and recovery and hopefully be able to show you some cute pictures of him, Maddie, Carter and Chloe along the way.

This was the original intent; however, when we started this blog we had no idea the twists and turns our lives would take. Our sweet baby Maverick was born September 12, 2008 with Transposition of the Great Arteries, ASD, and VSD. We expected to have a baby boy to bring home three to four weeks after his surgery. He had numerous complications after his arterial switch and fought through many that would have taken the life from an adult. He passed away February 24, 2009 - without ever coming home.

This blog is now a place I share my feelings, work through the grief, remember Maverick, and try to make sense out of our life without him. I hope in doing so I am giving a name and a face to babies everywhere born with congenital heart defects.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

A Mav lesson and a hard day

This post is actually from Sunday morning at 12:38am. Greg sent this picture from his phone Thursday, so that's the day it put on the post. It's been on the blog previously, but I'm putting it on anyway. It's the last picture I have of all of us together. Yesterday (Friday) was a pretty good day. I slept in late due to a headache, but was fine the rest of the day. Greg and Carter went to a basketball game - thanks for the tickets, Jason and Polly. I went to a birthday party for one of our friends. Last weekend Greg and I talked about being with larger groups of people. He's not quite ready for it. I like the distraction. There's something about being in a group of friends - having a normal conversation - that's good for me. I'm not always in the mood for it, but it's nice when I am. Sometimes, if I'm having a bad day, that's the last thing I want to do. Today was one of those days.

I look at this picture and know that I still had hope for little Mav. I may have been the only one, but I did. I'm glad I did. I've thought about that often. Knowing everything that I knew about all his conditions, I still didn't let that take the hope away. I know God helped me keep that hope. Why? I'm not sure, but I do know it would've been terribly depressing going to the hospital day after day if I knew he wasn't going to survive. So, that's another one of the things I've learned from Mav. You have to have hope. If you are someone going through something similar to this, don't let anyone take it away from you. If you are one of my medical friends, don't take it away from someone else. I'm not saying to deny reality and live in a delusional world, but if there is something to have hope about - regardless of the statistics - hang on to it with all you've got. You have to to get through something like this.

With all that said, it sounds like I'm in a pretty good place right now. Honestly, I'm not. I have been crying on and off all day. I just hate that this has happened. I miss my baby. These things aren't supposed to happen. Why didn't God heal him so he could come home? These are just a few of the thoughts running through my mind right now. Greg and I were talking about things tonight. He's been reading through the comments on the blog and mentioned how many lives Mav touched in his short life. It's so encouraging to hear your heartfelt stories and read your comments. I truly treasure them. Greg also commented on how Mav is now healed - no sore bottom or scars. Right now, though, those things don't ease my pain or make my tears stop falling.

I've been trying to focus on my other kids to help me get through this. Today they've been fighting a lot and complaining. My temper has been a bit short, and I find myself telling them, "You have nothing to complain about!" I think to myself that they are healthy and not in the hospital; they have us and each other; they have too many toys to play with. How can they complain?! Because they are kids and they don't realize what a blessing normalcy is. I'm realizing as I type this out that I should be thankful for their normalcy - bickering, complaining and all. I should take it as a blessing and be thankful for it. At least I can hear them scream and cry. Love you all - jc


Bill and Mary said...

Juli ~ Even though I don't know you, I feel like I do from reading your blog. I wish I could give you a hug right now. I hope that isn't weird. You and your family are in my daily prayers. Hold tight to the lessons Mav taught you and the memories. He was a special little boy. I have talked with my little one about him, as he is facing surgery himself this week. I've told him to be brave like Mav...and I've told myself the same. You do what you need to right now to help you...and know that EVERYTHING you are doing is right. God bless.

Anonymous said...

I wanted to post a comment about how Maverick is still in our thoughts here at my household. I haven't mentioned Maverick since the blood drive last Wednesday when my 3 year old Gabbie came with me. I tried to explain why I was donating blood but at 3 she didn't really get it. On Saturday night, out of the blue, she asked me if Jesus still lived "up there", pointing at the sky and she then said "with baby Maverick, right". She loves seeing your blog with all his pictures and videos. I just wanted you to know he has touched so many of our lives, even little 3 year olds. Terin Morris

Angela Jones said...

I saw you at church today. I know it must have been very difficult to go into the worship center. Keep leaning on the Lord for the strength that you need for each day. It seems like He is so good at giving us just exactly the right amount to sustain us at each moment. We love your precious family and are continuing to pray for you daily.