A different kind of heartache

One of the things I have always loved about my career is the opportunity it has given me to meet and interact with so many interesting people. When I worked on the agency side, I juggled anywhere between 5 and 15 clients at a time, each with their own personalities, stories, and agendas; while most would simply exist as business relationships, interactions with no greater depth than the media updates I would provide, some became close friends and confidantes with whom I still keep in touch.

At my last job I formed a very quick and tight bond with one client in particular. Other than our jobs, we had little in common - she was a blond, married Midwestern girl who had just given birth to twins. Yet we formed an inexplicable friendship; inexplicable only because I don't know exactly what we always had to talk about and yet we could never stop talking. Even in the coldest, most bitter of winters, she made my trips to Minneapolis warm and fun.

When I first started on the account, she was on an extended maternity leave, because her twin boys were born with a myriad of problems. About four months into her pregnancy, Natalie found out that Logan had a bad heart (on a scale of A to Z, a W) and Owen had a bad stomach. In the three-plus years since their birth, both have undergone more surgeries and treatments than any of us would dream of in a lifetime. Logan (the heart baby) was born without a spleen, which means he is extremely prone to infections, and almost every heart surgery he's had has come with great risk. There have been far too many ups and downs for me to relate here, but the short of it is that they are both delicate little things that, despite the hardships, are growing into strong, beautiful little boys.

Natalie has documented the entire account in her own blog, which I am linking to now (without her knowledge or permission I might add) as just last week, Logan underwent a Fontan, a pretty invasive heart surgery. (As if there is any other kind?) Since the surgery, Logan experienced a collapsed lung, kidney dialysis, and, well, just read here - I can't even begin to explain.

I'm writing about this now because Natalie has been asking, all week, for everyone's prayers. I am not a religious person, and prayers coming from my mouth seem, at least to me, artificial, like they don't count because I'm not properly affiliated with religion or God. But if you all pray, or would feel comfortable doing so, I hope you can direct some of your prayers their way. In her words, "If you've never prayed, we need you to start, and if you have been, pray harder."

And I will pray that someone is listening.