Friday, August 31, 2012


Braeden loves to go to the park. He enjoys climbing to the top of the highest play structure then yelling,"Mommy...mommy look at me." Ofcourse I am watching nervously...hoping that he doesn't fall and hurt himself. He is a fearless little climber. I think the fact that Braeden was born with health issues has made me even more diligent in trying to protect him from harm. I have come to realize that I cannot protect him from everything,the scrapes and bruises of life will come with their own lessons. Life isn't about how many times we fall, it is about learning to get back up again.It occureed to me when he took a tumble the other day,that God must see us through similar eyes...

Running on the playground
My son took quite a fall
He pulled himself up carefully
And then began to call...
"I'm hurt...I'm hurt...hurt
I run to him...he's on the ground
His face covered in dirt
I find him with his hands outstretched
His eyes are filled with tears
I scoop him up and hug him as
I try to soothe his fears.
It's okay I tell him
(As mother's tend to do)
Now let’s go wash that ouchie
And get a band aid too.
I do not reprimand him
For leaving mommy's sight
I simply hold him in my arms
And whisper..."It's alright"
And then it did occur to me
That God must feel this way
When his child is hurting
He whispers..."you okay"?
In a world where things do go wrong
In a world of struggle and hurt
I sometimes find...I'm on the ground
All covered up in dirt
But I can get up by myself
I say with just a sigh
I'm strong enough to stand myself
I will not even cry.
And so I brush off all the dust
And my great boast
Why must we fall to realize
What really matters most?
And so I watch each step with care
Can I avoid a fall?
But living life so carefully
Is not living at all.
I do not have the answers
(I may not understand)
But this I know for certain
He's there to take my hand.
The playground of life lies before me
At times it's hard to see
That open arms are waiting
To love and comfort me.
If I should fall tomorrow
If I should fall today
The one who holds eternity
He still says…
"You okay"?

~Stephanie Husted

~For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, saying to you,"Fear not I will help you. Isaiah 41:13

Monday, February 13, 2012

One in One Hundred

On November 6th 2004, my son Braeden was born with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. He has had three open heart surgeries, two heart caths, a g-tube placement, and countless echos and blood draws. He has recently been diagnosed with Kabuki Syndrome(which is also extremely rare) Despite so many obstacles, Braeden is a happy seven year old today. One in every one hundred children will be born with a heart defect.

You came home with a big red heart,

That you had made at school,

You wrote your own name in the middle,

You asked isn't it cool?

"It's beautiful," I said to you,

As pride swelled in my chest,

"When it comes to paper hearts,

Yours really is the best."

The glitter and lace,

A mirrored reflection,

So carefully placed,

In sincere perfection.

I think about your "real" heart,

On the inside, where others can't see,

It won't ever be "perfect",

You have a CHD.

You are that one in one hundred,

We'll never know what to expect,

Our lives have been forver changed,

By the words: heart defect.

A precious baby girl was born,

In nineteen eighty-four,

Her mother surely held her,

Not knowing just what was in store,

Her hopes and dreams were shattered,

By the words that would be spoken,

Her tiny...brand girl,

Was born with a heart that was broken.

Things were different in that time,

Options weren't as clear,

Although her child did not live,

She is a pioneer.

She named her daughter Stephanie,

You can still read her story today,

She received the first baboon heart,

We call her "Baby Fae."

She was that one in one hundred,

Her family decided to give,

So medical science could progress

And future heart children might live.

A mother and father get out of their car,

Taking their son's tiny hand,

The little boy shifts restlessly,

Too young to understand.

Mommy has fresh flowers,

Dad has a shiny new balloon,

He doesn't know they're for his brother,

Whose young life was taken too soon.

His small hands touch a well worn stone,

He says, "wish you were here."

His parents kneel beside him,

Wiping away every tear.

Their child was one in one hundred,

And now they are living apart,

Countless children die each year,

Due to a broken heart.

The technician tells her to relax,

The gel should still be warm,

She rubs her pregnant belly,

Discomfort has become the norm.

Her husband smiles back at her,

She gives him a quick wink,

Soon they will have their answer,

Will it be blue or will it be pink?

The tech starts to look a bit nervous,

In a flash their are doctors and chatter,

She looks at her husband with tears in her eyes,

Asking, "what do you think is the matter?"

They have become one in a hundred,

Lives now changed by CHD,

The child they have been waiting for,

Will soon need surgery.

She is the miraculous,

Inspiring through strife,

The doctors then weren't certain,

If they could save her life.

She paved the road for many,

Now she helps others cope,

She has grown up with CHD,

She gives each of us hope.

She is one in one hundred,

A life with endless plans,

It's nice to know that someone,

Truly understands.

We are the one in one hundred,

Helping the world to see,

We share, reflect...remember,

One voice for CHD.

~Stephanie Husted

Braeden's journey...

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