4 Books That Surpassed My Expectations, and One, Not So Much

Yikes! I spent over 60 hours this month listening to audio books. Do I feel guilty? Not at all. It's a necessity if I'm to offer recommendations on this blog. Besides, I multitask. While the audio is going I also dust, wash dishes, sweep floors, bake muffins, exercise on the stationary bike, or do other chores. But lest I mislead you, I confess there are times--every day--when I toss the dust rag aside, get comfortable in the recliner and simply listen to a captivating story.

Now, about those books I read. Out of the five worth commenting on, two merited a 5-star rating, something I rarely award any title! One received 4-stars. Another garnered 3-stars, and one only got 2-stars. My choice on this last one was difficult as the book had a 4+ ranking on Goodreads. Did we read the same book? Did I react to the content rather than objectively evaluate the work? After some thought the 2-star decision remained in order to be true to myself. 

Like to know what I spent so much time listening to this month? Or, in need of a book recommendation? Or, possibly a suggestion for a gift? Good. Because what follows will answer all those questions. First up, one of my top 5-star picks:

“The Lake House” by Kate Morton – 21+ hours; 5-stars

Even before finishing this book I was recommending it to a friend. The audio version of this bestseller was excellent and the narrator's British accent contributed positively to this England-based story. Plenty of twists and turns to this mystery which is centered on a family and the solving of its 70-year old secret. My only criticism of the title is its ending which seemed a bit farfetched.

Still, the author's ability to intertwine three different subplots within the main storyline kept me fascinated and why I gave it a 5-star rating on Goodreads. Won't be at all surprised if this book becomes a movie.

“When Jesus Wept” by Bodie Thoene – 9 hours; 4-stars

I approached this audio book knowing Bodie Thoene is a skilled writer with many titles to her credit, but wasn't sure if this work would succeed in audio format. Surprisingly, it did, though the narrator's British accent kept getting in the way initially. He was quite good, but my mind kept wanting a voice of a man or woman which reflected the Middle East tone.

My impression from the jacket copy was that Lazarus was the main character in the book, but Jesus is really the dominate personality. Regardless, the author did an exceptional job of research and writing, making this historical fiction piece both entertaining and educational. This is Book 1 in The Jerusalem Chronicles Series and I’m all for listening to the next one, “Take This Cup,” and perhaps even Book 3, “Behold the Man,” when it is released this coming September.

Note: If you buy the Kindle $1.99 version you can then buy audio for only $3.99!

“Dreaming Spies” by Laurie King  - 12+ hours; 3-stars

What piqued my interest in this title was the mention of Sherlock Holmes in the promo copy. Alongside Holmes name was another: Mary Russell. Who is she? I wondered. Sorry Holmes fans for being so ignorant of this author and the lady who I now know is the fictitious wife of the well-known detective.

Anyway, back to “Dreaming Spies.” It turned out to be a mix of adventure and mystery. While the story starts out in England, much of the saga takes place on board a ship or in Japan in the year 1925. Intertwined in the mystery is a good amount of information about that country’s culture and history which at times slowed down the story. Overall, though, the book held my interest. Perhaps if I had read it in its correct order I would have enjoyed it more. It wasn’t until after completing the novel that I learned it was the final title in the Mary Russell Mystery Series. On the plus side: I learned a lot about Japan and now have 13 other titles in the series to add to my wish list.

“Rosemary: The Kennedy’s Hidden Daughter” by Kate Clifford Larson – 7 + hours; 2-stars

I’m not enamored by the Kennedy family but this account of how they responded to having a child with mental challenges intrigued me. What I did not expect was how their attitudes and actions would anger me.

The birth of Rosemary, back in the 1920’s, is how the story begins. Not long after the doctors stated she was “retarded,” and medical experts urged the parents to place her in an institution, a common practice back then. But Rose and Joe Kennedy went against protocol and brought their daughter home to be raised and schooled like any other normal child. Admirable actions but mixed with wrong motives. Unfortunately, after a botched lobotomy, the girl was placed in numerous care facilities where she lived out her life.

I don’t regret reading the book as it made me appreciate the advancement we’ve made with how we view and care for those with mental health issues. Expecting to learn much about Rosemary in the pages it was a disappointment to feel I hardly knew her by the books end. The bulk of the material written was about the parent’s efforts to maintain their image, instead of loving, embracing and esteeming their daughter. It was rather dry reading too which is the primary reason for my 2-star rating.

“A Voice in the Wind” by Francine Rivers – 21+ hours; 5-stars

I read this book years ago and it still remains at the top in my "favorites’ list" and a title I’ve given to others over the years. When the audio version came on sale ($4.95) recently at Audible.com I could not pass up the chance to listen to this historical fiction again. Rivers has an exceptional ability as a writer of biblical fiction. Admire Rivers abillity to take historical facts and wisely place them in a skillfully told drama.

The realistic portrayal of the persecution of the early church in Rome is what grabbed my attention during my first read and left me better understanding of what it means to be a Christ follower.

My second time through was more unsettling due to current persecutions taking place of Christians by ISIS and other radical groups. The similarity between America and first- century Rome where believers were belittled, hated or killed for their faith was also disconcerting.

It would have been a somber read if not for the main character, a young Jewess and believer named Hadassah, who offers hope and a striking contrast to a depraved world. Her faithfulness and compassion, while a slave to a wealthy Roman family, is what drives the plot line, turning this heartbreaking saga into an uplifting one.

Note: This is book one in the Mark of the Lion series. Chapters 1 and 2 are a bit slow and heavy with historical data but are a necessary foundation for the entire series. Once you get past them the story takes off with the final chapters making up for the lumbering initial ones. Warning: includes violence.

Any of those titles above appeal to you? 

If not, how about reading my current selection which I started today? 

"Memory Weaver" by Jane Kirkpatrick, another author I enjoy who writes historical fiction which usually contains biblical principles. 

That’s all for now. An audio book waits . . . plus the polishing of tarnished silverware.

Julie

P.S. What did you read this month that’s worth recommending? 

How a Lamb and Jesus Triumphed Over Rejection . . . and So Can You!

I’m not a city girl. I’d much prefer to live on a farm, and if I did, a few sheep would be on the property along with a well-trained border collie to keep them in line.

How I acquired my love of lambs, I’m not sure, could be it stems from the nursery rhyme, “Mary Had a Little Lamb” or the once popular painting of Jesus carrying a small lamb in his arms with more surrounding his feet. I received a tiny print of it when a child which I tucked away in my Bible for years. Memorizing Psalm 23 probably swayed me too with its portrayal of a loving shepherd.

But it wasn’t until I read “A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23” by Phillip Keller did I gain a more accurate view of sheep and the role of a shepherd. The book educated me on the potential dangers these creatures face and their daily needs, plus the arduous work a shepherd does to care and watch over them. It’s been decades since I first read the former bestseller but still embedded in my mind is this one fact: sheep are notoriously stubborn! And not too smart. Characteristics, along with other lamb traits, we humans--myself included-- often exhibit. We’ve another similarity: we both need a compassionate shepherd in order to survive.

That fact again surfaced on Facebook a few days ago while watching “Enjoy the Shepherd,” by Ray Carman. He’s a sheep rancher in Tennessee who creates short videos, mostly about lessons he learns as he tends his flock. The particular video I viewed was about a female Ewe which rejects one of her newborn lambs.

While Ray talks into the camera, explaining what’s transpiring with the animals behind him, the Ewe repeatedly shoves her baby lamb into a fence forcing it away from its siblings. My heart reacted with empathy as I watched the innocent lamb suffer rejection. Thankfully, the lamb has a tender shepherd (Ray) who came to his rescue and cared for it until strong enough to return to the pasture.

Carefully and with sensitivity Ray brings the topic of rejection closer to home by stating how it may be a part of our story. We may be just like that lamb, unloved and unwanted, desperate for someone to truly care about us, redeem us, and watch over us as his own. Ray wraps up his short videos by reminding his viewers how rejection was a part of Christ’s life as he quotes this verse from the Bible:

“He was despised and rejected—a man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief. We turned our backs on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care.” Isaiah 53:3 (New Living Translation)

Soon after I finished seeing more videos by Ray this picture of a lamb at church showed up in my Facebook feed.

My friend, Mary Yamada, captured the shot of the animal occupying her pew at Eastridge Baptist Church in Kent, Washington. The one-day-old lamb was the runt of the litter requiring constant care in order to survive. Knowing it was too risky to leave the lamb at home alone the family brought him along to church. What a lovely way to celebrate Palm Sunday and have a visual reminder of Christ, who is called The Lamb of God. Makes me think of these verses in I Peter:

“For you know that God paid a ransom to save you from the empty life you inherited from your ancestors. And the ransom he paid was not mere gold or silver. It was the precious blood of Christ, the sinless, spotless Lamb of God.” I Peter 1:18-19 (NLT)

It’s that Lamb of God who I prefer to focus on this Easter, rather than bunnies, colored eggs, or candy. While not anti these aspects of the holiday it does sadden me to see them take precedence over a day set aside to honor and celebrate Christ’s resurrection.

Which is why I wanted to write about a lambs today. And why a few artificial ones can be seen around my house this time of year. Here are two of my favorites which added a bit of sweetness to my March kitchen décor.

It’s doubtful that I will ever own a ranch or raise lambs. But that’s all right. What’s more important is knowing and enjoying my Good Shepherd.

Julie

P.S. I thought you’d like to know the lamb rejected by her Mama is doing fine and goes by the name of Precious.

On the blog last Easter: “A Question for Mel Gibson,producer of The Passion of the Christ”

            

My take on . . . Daylight Saving Time, Clocks, and "Nearing Home," a book by Billy Graham.

My brain is working overtime! Lately it has decided to become alert at midnight and read for at least an hour. Why, I do not know. The other strange annoyance my mind seems to have is a focus on clocks. I’d be concerned, but I think I know what is to blame . . .

First to blame is “Boom, Chicka, Rock,” a kids book I read recently involving a clock, 12 mice and a cat. Included too are a few silly-sounding words. Now this phrase, “Tickety, tockety” is on constant replay.

Second to blame is Daylight Saving Time, taking place this weekend. I welcome the return of extended sunshine into the evening hours, but could do without the jet-lag symptoms it triggers as my body adjusts to the altered time. It baffles me why we continue with this practice of changing our clocks each fall and spring. It’s my understanding the intent of this mandate back in the early 1900’s was to conserve on the use of candles (Electricity was not common in homes until 1930’s.) and make better use of daylight. May have made sense then, but now?

Third to blame is my own personal “body clock.” It is relentless in reminding me I have entered the final decades of my life. Where once endless energy was mine, now it is limited. Where once I tackled multiple projects every day, now they are spread out over weeks, or not done at all. Where once I regularly and meticulously washed my car, now it gets done occasionally. The clock is assuredly winding down. 

I admit it is tough to accept and embrace getting older and to relinquish enjoyable tasks, like gardening, as well as those which are mundane. Makes me think of a remark my Mom made after Parkinson’s stole her ability to walk normally: “Oh, how I wish I could still clean my house.” I now understand the deeper message of her words which is why I try to be grateful for even the smallest of tasks I can still do . . . even dusting.

For some, the decline of one's health or loss of something or someone, triggers anger or a negative attitude, etc., but there are alternatives. One option is to change your focus. Rather than dwell on what is being removed from your life, consider a new interest. For example, when I could no longer lift books and had to stop overseeing the Kids Library I heeded Dr. Seuss’ advice: “Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened!” Coming upon his words enabled me to focus on being thankful to God for the 14 years I got to serve in that capacity and look forward to a new assignment. In time it emerged: start a blog to share my knowledge of books and pass along stories which can help others. Ta Da! New focus. New outlook.

Now that books have been brought up, let me tell you about “Nearing Home,” by Billy Graham. It came into my life as I contended with a painful eye problem which caused me to seek advice about how to live with chronic health issues. Aware Dr. Graham had Parkinson’s disease and in his 90’s, I was certain I’d find wisdom in his words. He helped on a number of fronts, plus reinforced the importance of a biblical perspective on aging. What caught me by surprise was his willingness to be so vulnerable and honest about his own issues. The book exceeded my expectations.

Unlike his other titles, this one is much more personal, especially when writing about missing Ruth, his wife of 63 years. It’s also filled with practical and biblical advice for anyone desiring to gain insight on how to finish well.

The easy read has only 10 chapters, my favorite being “Then and Now,” a principle about transition with grace that Ruth coined and lived by, and one which today guides Billy. To give you a taste of the book’s content here are two excerpts from the final chapter I keep mulling over:

“We never know at what stage, or age, we are living the last chapter of life.”

“While I will never grow accustomed to life without Ruth, she would be the first to scold me if I didn’t look for God’s plan in the ‘here and now.’ This was her realm. It would be easy to sit and reminisce about all that was accomplished during the years of public ministry. I am grateful, for I know that ‘such mighty works are performed by His hands’ (Mark 6:2 NKJV). But I also know that God has a purpose in everything, and He will guide us into whatever He has for us if our hearts, mind, and eyes are watching and waiting attentively.”

After completing Billy’s book I found two other titles addressing the same subject. Both merit mentioning:

“Finishing Well to the Glory of God: Strategies from a Christian Physician” by John Dunlop, M.D., copyright 2011, 224 pages. Fascinated by what I have read so far. His medical knowledge and perspective definitely set this title apart from others. 

“Finishing Our Course with Joy: Guidance from God for Engaging with Aging” by J. I, Packer, copyright 2014, 112 pages. Short book packed full of wise counsel by a well-known author and theologian. Don't let the dark, somber cover keep you from considering what really is an uplifting book.  

While it may appear these titles are geared for those advanced in age, a younger audience could benefit from them. Similar to long-range retirement planning, which needs to start when young, these men’s works could prove invaluable if read years prior to turning 65.

Other clock stories have surfaced as I've written this piece (Yes, my mind is still working overtime!) and this one is the perfect way to end this post. Some sixteen years ago when I bought my little bungalow, badly in need of refurbishing, a few loving friends showed up to clean, paint and transform the place. Before leaving that day one of them handed me a house-warming gift. Inside was a clock! It still is part of my décor and a sweet reminder of the kindness of friends. 

Until next time!

Julie

P.S. Garfield insisted I remind you to set your clocks back this weekend! 

15 Books About Dogs Which Kids and Adults Will Enjoy!

“Spice” is my red-haired puppet who I took to Pet Smart last week for a photo shoot. There was a purpose behind this crazy adventure: In a few days I would be back at the preschool to read “What Pet Should I Get” by Dr. Seuss for Story Time. Knowing how much the boys and girls like Spice I thought it would be fun to show her checking out all sorts of “live” animals: dogs, cats, gerbils, birds, guinea pigs, lizards and even a baby python!

Spice now wants her hair dyed gray after seeing this beauty! 

The short slide show was a big hit with the kids, and, of course, the snake received the most shrieks, oohs and aahs.

Leading up to Story Time I read a number of books about dogs in case there was time to read two books. “Help Me, Mr. Mutt!” is my all-time-favorite, but it’s too advanced for preschoolers. So, instead, I went with “Dogs!” by Gravett, primarily because it was short with good illustrations. Other titles I considered are below:

“My Big Dog” by Janet Stevens. This book is a Caldecott Award Honor winner for its striking illustrations. The story is also good and revolves around a golden retriever puppy that moves into a house where Meri, the cat, resides and rules. How the two work out their differences results in the perfect ending. 40 pages, $7.99

“Bad Dog, Marley!” By John Grogan. Colorful graphics, a baby called Louie, and a not-yet-trained-puppy named Marley - who creates havoc at home – turns this cute story into a sentimental one. Book is based on the bestselling book/movie, “Marley,” by the same author. 40 pages, $6.99 paperback.

“How Rocket Learned to Read” by Tad Hills. A tiny, yellow bird teaches his friend Rocket, a dog, how to read . . . starting with learning the alphabet, then sounding out words, to reaching the place where he can read on his own. Ideal for kindergarten age. 40 pages, $13.73 hardback (Also in paperback)

“The Pigeon Wants a Puppy!” By Mo Willems. “I want a puppy and I want one now!” makes it easy to grasp the gist of this book right away. But it’s a fun read as are all of the titles in this popular series. The minimal art and text fit well with preschool age. 40 pages, $9.10 Amazon price.

“Move Over Rover” by Karen Beaumont. A rhyming text tells the story of Rover who is quite content in his dog house until a menagerie of other animals pays him a visit and carves out a cozy spot at his side. That is, until a certain animal shows up. Cute ending. 40 pages, $14.76 hardback.

“Help Me, Mr. Mutt! by Janet Stevens and Susan Stevens Crommel. A canine counselor, with expert answers for dogs with people problems, hands out advice to a variety of canines who write in about their owners. Meanwhile, the counselor’s cat (The Queen) offers her own view/advice. Adults like this book as much as kids. 56 pages, $13.88 hardback.

“Dear Mrs. LaRue – A Letter From Disobedience School” by Mark Teague. Similar to the above title only because “letters” are part of the story. This time it’s a dog writing to his owner, Mrs. LaRue, about his time at obedience school. A fun read with humor in graphics and text. 30 pages, $6.71 (new and used) 

“Where’s Spot” by Eric Hill. This book has been around for a while but still quite popular. Kids love the lift-the-flap options on each page which keeps their attention and lends to asking them questions about the content. 32 pages, $9.83 hardback.

“Dogs” by Emily Gravett. Wonderful illustrations, like the one seen on the book’s cover, fill up the pages in this title. Young readers will be captivated by the various shapes, sizes, colors and type of dogs presented . . . and the surprise ending. Few words used in the 32 pages so it’s a quick read. $14.32 hardback (Also in paperback).

"Puddle Pug” by Kim Norman. If you have a "pug" at home for a pet you'll enjoy this determined pug who prefers waddling in the mud with pigs to his own backyard. One problem: pigs dislike pugs! 32 pages, $10.21

Books about dogs for adult readers

Can’t leave today without mentioning Jon Katz. He's a marvelous author who writes about his dogs, plus an assortment of other animals, and life at Bedlam Farm in upstate New York. Woven into his true accounts are lessons he has learned which are applicable to all of us. Loved his latest work: "Saving Simon: How a Rescue Donkey Taught Me the Meaning of Compassion."

Katz's intended audience is adults and I’ve read and enjoyed almost all his works. “Running to the Mountain” is the first of his books revealing how he came to leave city life for the country and ended up buying Bedlam Farm.

Having mentioned Katz that makes me think of Cats. No doubt I've disappointed a number of you by focusing on dogs today. But don't write me off yet, there are oodles of books about felines so I will definitely consider a future post devoted to cat books which merit a review.  

Until then, have fun reading and cherishing those around you, even your pets. 

Julie
P.S. Some pet names are truly original. I grew up with dachshunds mostly named after cars (i.e. Mercedez). What do you call your pet? 

How Our Son's Congenital Heart Disease (CHD) Brought About Joy and Positive Changes

It's time you meet Malcolm, better known as Little Braveheart, my nephew's son. Though Mal is not even 2 years old he has quite a story, one his Mommy (Julie Johnston) has written about on her blog, Through the Dark Waters. But today, she has penned this guest blog about their little guy. Warning: keep a tissue or two close by.  
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It’s February: a busy time for everyone. Packing a whole month’s worth of activities into a meager 28 days can be a daunting prospect, and you have to deal with the hullabaloo of Valentine’s Day and President’s Day somewhere in there. Of course, if you’re a glutton for punishment and are really into celebrations, February is also Black History Month, National Children’s Dental Health Month, Teen Dating Violence Awareness Month, National Forestry Mulcher Month (?!), Bleeding Disorders Awareness Month and – most importantly, at least to me –CHD (Congenital Heart Defects) Awareness Month. I’ve never been much of a Valentine’s fanatic – I don’t like dead flowers, and romantic dinners are overrated. Presidents Day is a non-holiday (now that I’m an adult and don’t get a day off of school, that is). I couldn’t care less about mulch and, though I’m very much in favor of children having healthy teeth, I don’t see a reason to think about fluoride and floss for a whole month. But CHD Awareness Month is something I can get behind.

Why, you ask?

CHD Awareness Month reminds me that very few things are in my control. As much as I’d like it to be true, life can’t quite be scheduled out neatly in an appointment app. I had planned to have a normal existence: a job, a house, a husband, 1.6 children – the works – and at 32 I was pretty sure I had things all mapped out. It’s funny how fast things can change. One quick jerk of the Cosmic Kaleidoscope - that’s all - and everything around you breaks, realigning into very different patterns before you have time to protest or adjust.

What do you know about congenital heart disorders? Would it surprise you to know that as many as 1 out of 110 children are born with heart defects? Or that 25% of those kids will need surgery to survive? Personally, I didn’t know anything about birth defects until recently, when I was forced to learn in a very personal way.

The Ultrasound That Changed Our World

Ultrasound - profile view of head                                 Proud parents admiring their son                        Open Heart Surgery #2

Nearly two years ago, my husband, Dustin, and I went in to my obstetrician's office for a routine, 20-week ultrasound. Like all expectant parents, we were reasonably excited about the prospect of seeing our baby in action, and even more amped about finally knowing the gender of our little bean. For my own part, I didn't much care whether it was a boy or a girl, but either way I really wanted to know. There were crib sheets to be bought and blankets to be crocheted, and I didn't want to mess around with boring neutral colors any more (besides, white clothes are incredibly impractical and - I cannot state this strongly enough - nobody looks good or has ever looked good in pale yellow).

I had obligingly filled my bladder full to bursting, per my doctor’s request, and it was protesting. Loudly. I attempted to ignore the discomfort as the sonographer messed around, taking what seemed to me a lot of unnecessary pictures of toes and fingers and brain lobes before she got around to the genitals…and revealed that we were having a boy! I had been pretty certain it was a girl, so of course I was shocked and happy - and bitterly disappointed that I wouldn't be able to use my daughter’s old clothes - and generally overwhelmed and pleased as punch. I ran the whole gamut of a pregnant lady’s emotional range in the span of two minutes. And then I got to pee! Life was good.

After the gender reveal I was finally allowed to give my poor bladder some relief, and the rest of the ultrasound seemed unimportant and anticlimactic. More than anything at that point I just wanted it to be over, so we could go call our parents and tell them the great news. But the sonographer continued to take a tiresome amount of pictures, especially of our little guy’s heart. She stopped making casual chit-chat.

"I can't get a good enough angle," she kept saying, becoming increasingly frustrated.

I didn’t notice her distress, or maybe I just chalked it up to peevishness. All I could think was, I don't care what angle you get, just hurry it up lady, because I've got people to call.

She kept trying for what seemed like hours, frowning in concentration. And after an eternity, she finally let us go out into the waiting room.

Shocking Results

The nurse called us back to the exam room after a few minutes for the results of the ultrasound, and my doctor met us in the hallway, which was odd. Usually I would have to be weighed and measured and have my blood pressure checked before seeing the actual doc. I love my OB/GYN, and he’s a really happy, cheerful kind of guy. But this time he sat us down, with no preliminary small talk or pleasantries, and cut to the chase.

"The sonographer thinks there may be something wrong with the baby's heart," he said, "I don't know how serious it is, but I need you to go up to Portland to see a perinatologist and have further studies done. Right now."

I met Dustin's eyes briefly. They looked shocked, concerned. Scared. My head reeling, I managed to look at the doctor again.

"Wait, how bad is it? Is he going to be okay?” I paused and searched my brain for an ominous phrase I had heard before, “Is the defect…compatible with life?”

He shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "I hope so."

And then, just like that, the appointment was over. He stood up, ushered us out of the room, and gave us a map to a hospital in the city. The last thing he said was "I’m sorry.”

I held it together until we got into the car, and then the tears started flowing. Dustin was brave, trying hard to be supportive.

"He said there may be something wrong with the baby's heart. It might be nothing. Or it might be something that doesn't even need to be fixed. We don't know anything yet. Don't panic."

The rest of the drive we sat quietly, stunned into silence. We arrived at the hospital and were quickly shuffled into yet another dark ultrasound room. And for the second time that day, my stomach was covered with warm, gelatinous muck. And for the second time that day, we saw our baby up on a screen – our Malcolm - moving around, sucking his toes.

Another Ultrasound, Another Doctor

The sonographer poked around for ages, taking various pictures of Malcolm's heart. Hundreds of them. She was acting very cheerful and normal, which I appreciated tremendously, and she managed to remain cheerful even when eventually calling in for reinforcements. Then there were two of them in the tiny dark room, pushing and prodding me, talking quickly in low tones, using words I didn't understand. After a time, the second tech left to call in for even more reinforcements. While she was gone, I worked up my courage and spoke to the woman who had begun the ultrasound.

"Umm…My obstetrician just said there might be something wrong with the baby's heart. Is there actually something wrong?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, briskly. "There is definitely something very wrong here."
My heart seemed to fill my chest.

"Is it really bad?"

She stopped what she was doing for a minute and took the time to look at me for a minute. "It's complex," she said, and left it at that.

Soon, the perinatologist herself finally came in to talk to us. She told us what we already suspected at this point: there was something very wrong with Malcolm's heart. She explained that the defects were well above her pay grade, and that they would be calling in a pediatric cardiologist the next day to weigh in on the situation. For the second time that day, I asked if the defects were compatible with life. This time I was genuinely afraid of the answer.

"I don't know," she said, and grabbed my hand. "You...you need to prepare yourself for the strong possibility that the baby may die shortly after birth. I am obliged to tell you that you are still legally eligible for an abortion at this point in your pregnancy, and you will need to consider that option."

She talked for a little while about genetic testing, but I wasn’t listening anymore. Soon, she rose to leave and then stopped herself, choosing her words carefully.

"All the rest of your baby's organs are perfectly formed and completely normal." She smiled. "That is a very encouraging sign. Let's just see what the cardiologist has to say tomorrow. Get some rest."

Dustin and I staggered out of the hospital and found our way into the parking garage. And there, the reality of the situation finally sunk it. We sat, holding each other tight, huddled together in our stiflingly hot Jeep, sobbing uncontrollably. The only thing I could think was my baby doesn't know he's dying. Oh God, he doesn't know he's dying. He thinks he's safe. He’s sucking his toes. He doesn't know that he’s already dead...

A Very Long Night

I cannot describe the next twenty-four hours except to say that they comprised a true dark night of the soul. I remember my parents bringing us some Kentucky Fried Chicken, because we didn’t have the heart to feed ourselves; I wept into the gravy. I remember hearing Dustin call his parents. He started out strong “It’s a boy!” he said. And then he began to cry as he delivered the rest of the news. We tried to make things as normal as we could. We tucked in our then two-year-old daughter, Penelope. We watched a little TV. We allowed the numbness that inevitably descends after an emotional rollercoaster to take over.

After a few hours of fitful sleep that night, I awoke at 3:00 AM, crying my heart out. The numbness had worn off, and what I was left with hurt more than anything I could ever have imagined. I honestly couldn't see how things could turn out okay. Even if Malcolm could be fixed....even if he could live outside the womb...what would become of him? Would he be a sickly child and eventually pass away at age 9 or 10? Would he slowly fade away as a toddler, waiting for a transplant that never came? Or would I be forced to carry him to term, give birth, and hold him as his life ebbed away over a period of hours or minutes? What do you even do with babies that die, I wondered. Should we cremate him, or bury him? Do you give a memorial service for a baby that only lived a few hours?

My brain turned over and over, exploring each horrible possibility, and I called out to God, begging for Malcolm’s life. I didn’t bother trying to bargain. Please spare him, I prayed. He deserves a chance at life. He deserves to grow up. Please. Dustin woke up and held me tight. "It could still be okay. It might still be okay," he whispered.

"How?" I asked, bitterly.

"It just...things could still work out." He squeezed me tight and rubbed my belly. "Somehow, we'll make it through."

There were good days, and bad days . . . but Mal seemed to never lose his smile. 

The Next Day

We returned to the hospital the next morning and sat wordlessly in the waiting room, hands clasped together. We were taken back to the same dark room, where I was plied again with the same sticky gel. The cardiologist - an odd little man, God bless him - came in quietly and began to look at the images of Malcolm's heart. For an hour, or more, he held whispered conferences with the ultrasound technician. They took recordings of the baby's heart rhythms. They took three dimensional pictures of his heart from every angle. They used a special technology to watch the direction of blood flow from one chamber to another.

At one point during the procedure Malcolm kicked the ultrasound wand, hard. The cardiologist chuckled.

“How many weeks along are you?” he asked, incredulously. “That’s the strongest twenty-weeker I’ve ever felt.” Then he directed his comments to my stomach. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “Just roll over for us. We need to see your left side.” Malcolm obliged.

Dustin and I listened greedily for clues, wondering if Malcolm’s fate had been decided. But the jargon was too complicated, and the cardiologist and his assistant were too in sync with one another. They were speaking in a sort of medical shorthand, finishing each other’s thoughts, trailing off, using specialized words. We couldn’t follow the conversation.

Words of Hope

When the doctor had seen everything he wanted to see, he turned off the machines and meditatively washed his hands. Then he sat on the edge of the bed where I was lying and began talking rapidly, with his eyes closed. It was an odd tic, but an endearing one.

"Your baby has a condition called Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome, which means that his left ventricle is small and undeveloped. It’s unusable. He also has a condition called Double Outlet Right Ventricle, which means that his pulmonary artery and aorta are both attached to the right ventricle. They’re also wired backwards, which is called Transposition of the Great Arteries. And,” he threw in as an afterthought, “He’s got a huge hole in the middle of his heart.”

We sat quietly, stunned by the news, unsure how to interpret it. But the doctor kept talking.

“So there will be three surgeries. The first one about six weeks after he's born, and the second three or four months afterwards. The third will be when he's three or four years old."

There was a long silence.

"Wait," I said, confused. "Are you saying he's going to live?"

"Oh yes, of course," he said, and continued, apologetically, "Now, he'll be able to run and play and participate in gym at school, but I must warn you that he'll never be able to compete in sports at a professional level."

Mal out for a walk with sister and Mommy.

It took me a long time to process his words. What did they mean? What was he talking about? My son would be taking...gym classes? Gym classes. Okay, Malcolm would take gym classes, because...because...that’s what kids do when they go to school. Okay, Malcolm would be going to go to school, which meant…what exactly? Then it hit me. He was going to grow up. He was going to grow up and go to school and hate gym class, just like everybody else. It was the sweetest realization of my entire life.

The rest of the appointment passed by in a blur. I vaguely remember them performing an amniocentesis to check for genetic defects. A genetic counselor came and talked to us for a while. But I couldn’t pay attention to anything. Malcolm was going to grow up. My baby was going to grow up. He would get his chance at life. It would all be very hard, of course, but HE WAS GOING TO LIVE!!!

I never would have believed it at the time, but that horrible day, that 24 hour period when we thought our baby was as good as dead, turned out to be a precious gift. The news that he would have to undergo three major open heart surgeries would have been crushing in normal circumstances. But considering the situation we were in, it was the best news we ever could have received. It was break-out-the-brass-band kind of news. It was call-the-mayor-and-arrange-a-ticker-tape-parade kind of news. I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I was in that moment.

Adjusting and Enjoying Life

The Johnston Family: Dustin, Julie, Penelope and Mal

That euphoria remained, and carried both Dustin and I through the events of the next year and a half. It helped us survive sixteen weeks of bed rest. It got us through a difficult birth, and five (not three!) surgeries, the first when Mal was only three weeks old. That feeling of overwhelming grace brought us safely through multiple hospital stays, through a diagnosis of failure to thrive, through countless feeding issues, weight issues, and vomiting issues. For four straight months in 2014, we had no sleep, no money, and no time. But believe me when I say that nothing in my life will ever be as bad as that night when I thought my baby was going to die without a chance or a say in what happened to him.

Of course, things have been very hard. We knew they would be. This is not the life I imagined for myself. Nowhere in any of my adolescent daydreams was there room for gastronomy tubes, or wound care, or scary medical equipment. Though Malcolm’s health situation now isn’t quite as precarious as it has been, he still requires special attention. But every morning, when I wake up and see his crooked smile and his crazy hair, I know that everything we’ve been through has been worthwhile. I have never once regretted the circumstances of Mal’s birth, and strange as it seems, I wouldn’t change anything, even if I could. Something happened to me when I faced the death of my child. Something good. I have always been a fearful person: anxious, fretful, afraid of life. But I’m Teflon-coated now. After you’ve seen your baby knocked out and cut up and put back together, little things like house payments and cars breaking down don’t have power to affect your life anymore.

It’s February. Time for red and pink hearts, and chalky candy messages, and mulch-awareness, if that’s what you’re into. But for me, February will always be the time I remember how lucky I am to have given birth to a survivor. Happy CHD Awareness Month, everybody!
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Mal continues to improve but still has medical challenges, plus one more heart surgery down the line. Unless you are a nurse and can detect certain symptoms he seems like any other little boy who loves toys and his munchies. He's definitely a joy to his family and many others. 

I know this post has been longer than usual but it's not often you find someone willing to be so transparent. Thanks for giving it your time and possibly passing it on to someone who could benefit by it.   

Julie C (Mal's great aunt)