This summer, Savannah had the opportunity to attend a week long heart camp. It's a camp specifically designed for adolescents and teens living with congenital heart defects. It's a place where they are not the minority, but the majority - they all have zippers that lay across their chest and have similar life experiences - from hospital stays to unknown futures about their heart health. 

I was just 17 years old when I traveled to Romania to spread the Word of God. My peers and I spent our days and evenings on Romanian streets singing, teaching and cuddling with children who roamed about. We wanted them to know the Lords love and to know they could develop a personal relationship with Him. It was overwhelming and intense. It created a range of emotions. I knew it might be years before I had this type of opportunity again and I tried to soak it in and allow God could to use me as best He could. I realized that I might never know the impact we would make.

The room was bright and cool. I was seated in a wheelchair directly behind the MRI machine and I could see the top of Savannah's head. The machine hummed and clicked and the automated voice told her to breathe in, breathe out and then hold her breathe. I watched as her chest rose and fell and counted 8-10 seconds as she held her breathe. I couldn't talk to her, couldn't hold her hand, couldn't stroke her head and reassure her.

Every where I look, there are lists for how to raise independent, self-sufficient, responsible children. The title usually includes "X" amount of tips to teach your child to master these areas and if you do so, your child will be successful. Recommended ages are generally listed alongside said tips. I've read my fair share and suspect you have too.

We have shared that 4 of our 5 wild things have a variety of special needs and medical issues. Dylan has Down syndrome. Savannah has Tetrology of Fallot. Lincoln has Microcia of the ear. Each of these conditions is self-explanatory or can be easily accessed online.

There are countless bloggers. Here a blogger, there a blogger, everywhere a blogger. Sheesh, I'm a blogger, at least when time allows. I wish I was better at writing more regularly. I'm always writing in my head, but getting it out of my head and into a readable format is an entirely different story. And yet, despite my mild frustration and disappointment that I can't regularly write, it simply means that I'm out living life with my family of wild things and I wouldn't change that in million years.

It was just another Sunday afternoon. We had been to church and grabbed a bite to eat, before heading home for a lazy, Sunday afternoon. The wild things were tucked away in various corners of our home and I headed out to the gym for an appointment with the treadmill. 

I filled the tub with warm water and slowly undressed my infant daughter. As I put her into the tub, I knew the time had come. It had been a solid six weeks and the bandage was beginning to peel away. I had been putting this moment off. She was off all medications and slowly putting on weight. This was the last thing that needed to be done. I knew I would be relieved in the end, but in that moment, I was anxious.

Years ago, Rob and I read The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman. Books are available for both adults and children and I highly recommend them all. Rob and I have determined the love language of each other and our wild things and it has been an incredible tool in our marriage and in our parenting.

Most days come and go, but some have a more lasting impact than others. Birthdays, deaths, anniversary's of all kinds, milestones. They stir emotions of love, joy, sadness, pride, etc. As weeks, months and years pass, some of these specific dates have a way of remaining with us. Sometimes the emotions associated with a given date evolve, sometimes they don't. Personally, one of my dates is December 2nd, 2008. It's the date we handed Savannah over for open heart surgery to repair her Congenital Heart Defect, Tetralogy of Fallot (TOF).