Often times, Heart Dads do the behind the scenes work, the work that the world can’t see. Yet, in truth, their job as dad, their love, their encouragement and concern doesn’t go unnoticed by the ones that matter. This week, Diana Schneider shares with us just how special a role her husband plays in their family and the life of their warrior, Danny.
I see you, Heart Dad. You may not always wear your CHD heart on your sleeve, but I can see that too. I see the furrow in your brow as you’re researching our son’s diagnosis and treatment options. You wonder if you are doing enough to help him, if there’s more you could do for him. You try to imagine what the future holds for him and how you can make it better. I see you clench your jaw when the news anchor reports the latest flu statistics in our area and you glance anxiously at our boys, praying that somehow it spares everyone in our house. I see the tension in your shoulders when I need to take him to the emergency room. Again. You linger as you buckle him into his car seat, not wanting to let him go and yet wanting him to get there as quickly as possible at the same time. I know when I see you again there will be dark circles under your eyes because you can’t sleep well until he’s home safe with you again. Even with your anxieties and fears and without much sleep, you will be up the next morning to feed and dress our other two sons and take them to school and daycare. You will be mom and dad to them until Danny and I come back home, and I love that I never have to worry about them because it’s a job you do so well.
I see you swallow your concerns and let Danny be like every other little boy his age, running, climbing, and jumping off everything in sight. You roughhouse with him and his brothers, you chase him and tickle him until he squeals, planting big dinosaur kisses ever so skillfully on his belly without disturbing his G-tube. You never tell him he can’t try something because of his heart. And you don’t use it as an excuse to spoil him either. I see you discipline him and hold him to the same standards of behavior we set for his brothers when it would be much easier to let pity and guilt over everything he’s gone through get the best of you. But you know you wouldn’t be doing him any favors in the long run.
I feel like the people who know the story of our son’s journey don’t always see or appreciate how much of his success is from you. When our friends and family ask how Danny is doing you tell them I take him to weekly appointments with the feeding specialist and how he ate his first slice of pizza. But you don’t tell them you made the pizza from scratch (thin crust, so it’s easier to chew) and let him help you make it so he could experience food as a fun, not just therapy. You tell them I take him to see a speech therapist every week to get his language development on track so he can start school next year. But you don’t tell them how many books you read to him or how many flashcards you practice together each day when you get home from work. You tell them he no longer has a gross motor delay and doesn’t see a physical therapist any more, but you don’t tell them you built him his own platform swing to work on his balance at home. You tell them about current CHD research and what it could mean for Danny, but you don’t tell anyone that you went to our nation’s capital to educate legislators and push for more research funding.
I see the way becoming a Heart Dad has molded you into an even more remarkable father than you already were. It’s made you someone I could never have imagined when we were dating in high school, and your biggest concern in life was how to start a food fight without getting suspended. As it turns out, you weren’t very good at that. But you are the most incredible Heart Dad. It has shaken you to the core, and you have put the pieces back together even better than they were before. It has made you more vulnerable, but stronger. It has made you more serious, but you’ve retained your sense of humor. You live your life differently now, taking little for granted and stopping to enjoy the small things. You plan for the future, but cherish each day knowing that tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. I’ve watched the man who can fix anything around the house struggle to accept he can’t fix his son’s heart, but instead of buckling under the stress and fear you’ve allowed it to shape you into a better husband and father than you already were. You’ve managed to find a way to thrive under the burden of being a Heart Dad and because of that, because of you, Danny is thriving too.
Thank you for appreciating how hard I work to take care of our children. But the next time someone asks how Danny is doing, I hope you will remember to take your credit where it is due. To you and all the wonderful Heart Dads out there, have a Happy Father’s Day knowing how much we love and appreciate you the other 364 days of the year as well.
Diana Schneider is the lucky wife of an amazing Heart Dad and mom of three wild little boys. They live near Ann Arbor, Michigan and thankfully, Mott Children’s Hospital.