** this post doesn't necessarily pertain to being a pilot wife, but I just can't help blog about this...**


12 is the number that I link to my beloved grandmother, Wanda.

Her birthday is May 12.

November 12, 2003 is when she passed away.

November 12, 2008: I took a + pregnancy test.  I knew I was pregnant before walking into the bathroom that morning, so of course I was going to see those two lines.  The second I saw those lines I knew my grandmother had a special link to that pregnancy.

July 12, 2009, Cecilia Wanda entered into this beautiful world.
The fact that she was born on the 12th didn't hit me until a few hours later.  And when I realized the 12 connection, it hit me like a ton of bricks! 

7120...the room in the Children's Hospital that CC was assigned.

That fateful morning, CC woke up with a fever.  In typical second-time mom fashion I was just going to give her meds. I called the MD to verify the dosage, and once I said "4 weeks with a fever" they wanted to see her.  We went to the MD and then they admitted her.  Her age and fever was cause for concern.

Diagnosis? Viral Meningitis.  It wasn't the bad stuff, which is bacterial meningitis.  Her spinal fluid tested positive for this, which is how they diagnosed her.  After 24 hours at the hospital, she was discharged and all was well again. 

My point in all this?  Ever since that day my heart goes out to sick children.  My child was sick, but nothing compared to what some children go through...what some families go through.  Now that my kids are older, and I feel like I can break away from them a bit, I take 4 hours out of my Fridays to volunteer at this Hospital.

I was there.  I was a mom with a sick kid.  I know how vulnerable you are while at the hospital.  It sucks.  And I want to help.

Last Friday was my first day.  I ran errands.  I did anything from discharge patients to run medical records around to departments. I nearly cried two times.  And my heart broke three times.

The first time I nearly cried was when I discharged a little girl, probably 8-years-old or so, from surgery.  I simply helped her into a wheel chair, took her down the elevator, and helped her into her car.  As she got into the car and saying "good-bye, have a nice weekend!" a flush of tears came to my eyes.  Man!  So freakin' emotional.

The first time my heart broken was when I discharged a little baby.  He was probably 4 months, maybe 5 months.  The baby's mother, who couldn't have been any more than 20-years-old, was carrying him in her arms.  She was really sweet.  I sort of got a picture of her life based on our conversations, and I could tell that things weren't easy for her.  But, I could tell she had a wonderful spirit.

Her ride pulled up.  I helped carry the carrier out and opened the door to the car.  The woman who was driving the car came over to the passenger side and helped sort things out.  The mother said "did my Mom ever call you?"  The woman replied with a quiet "no."

Broke my heart!  This girl, who is really a child herself, not only had a baby that just had some type of surgery, but she also had a mother, the grandmother, who wasn't totally engaged. 

When CC was in the hospital, my in-laws made the 2 hour drive to visit us.  They walked in, without me knowing they were coming, and I bawled.  I was, and I am, so thankful to have support in my family like this.   When you child is sick, all you want is support and prayer.  I said a little prayer for that boy and his Mom as they left.

Ok, so this blog may not totally about being a pilot wife, but I had to blog about this.  I wanted to mark this date in the history of this blog.  I also want to pass along the importance of giving.  Do I have all the time in the world to give away? No.  Does volunteering take me away from the family? Yes.  But, this really is for the greater good.  Not only does it make you feel better, but it just betters the world.  If I just made one person smile that day, that is reward enough.  

I also want to add that I am thankful that Steve is willing to let me take this time to better myself.  I think it is incredibly important that you don't lose sight of who you are, and what you do with your life.  I have stressed over and over again that it is important to keep your identity as you become a wife and a mother.  It is easy to become so engrossed with the here and now, that you lose sight of the things that are just one step away.