A Mother's Balance of Worries and Wisdom: navigating the world of SPORTS

The other day, Emanuela unexpectedly wrapped up her Little Gym class early. She stormed out, a bundle of emotions, buried her nose in my neck and vowed never (ever ever) to return to the gym because "everyone is just running all the time". It was futile to try and figure out what's happening. So, I did what I could at the moment - I held her close, offering comfort until the storm passed. Later, when her rational self resurfaced, it turned out she was "just" tired and hungry. (And let me tell you, her tantrum was nothing in comparison to my own mood when I'm exhausted and famished.)

Lesson learned - there will always be snacks and water stashed in my backpack. Quitting sports is not an option. I've long understood that pushing her, rather than holding her back, is what's best for her. Although striking the balance between the cheering her on and letting her rest is sometimes a challenge. I worry whether I push her too hard, fear she might get hurt, worry I'll overlook signs of trouble, or obsess over her misjudging her abilities and sustaining an injury. The memory of the day she fell at the playground and the blood still haunts me...

The zip-line always provides so much fun. We love the few playgrounds with kid-sized zip-lines. Initially, one of us always assisted her climb on it, and then the other one (usually her dad) would run along. Not that we could catch her if she fell, but at least we'd be within reach. Until one day, I wasn't... By then, she had mastered the zip-line, jumping on it with a big laugh, clinging to the pole, sitting on a plate as she zoomed away, letting out a joyful "wieeeeeee". In reality, there was minimal speed and no great height, just enough to ignite a fire of a childhood adrenaline. All was good until, perhaps the tenth (though it felt like the thirtieth) attempt. She leaped, missed the seat, but held on with her hands, her legs flying behind. Midway through, her grip slipped, and she fell. Although her legs almost touched the ground throughout, combined with the speed, she didn't land on her feet. All I saw was her landing on her booty before rolling onto her back, and laying her head down on the pebbled ground. I didn't rush as it didn't look serious at all! I just called out: "Are you ok?" as at the same time hearing her scream. I recognized that sound that signalled the situation was worse than I thought. Rushing to her, I was met with the sight of her blond locks of hair stained red. We walked to a bench. I tried to examine her, but it was impossible to see where all the blood is coming from. Her cry escalated into full-blown panic at the sight of blood, and all I could do was applying pressure on her head, attempting to ignore the red stream flowing down my palm, wrist, and her neck, while waiting for an ambulance. We were taken to a hospital, uncertain if she required stitches. After she was cleaned and checked, the doctors realized the wound was just a dot, yet coupled with a few scratches and her daily blood-thinning therapy, it all turned into a real melodrama. Thankfully, with a happy ending (albeit leaving me with a deep rooted fear, while Emanuela was back on the zip-line as soon as she got to one).

Accidents are inevitable. And mothers worry - it's our second nature. However, the fact that exercise is beneficial for children and adults with a congenital heart defect is indisputable. We've been fortunate to receive consistent reminders from our daughter's cardiologists, but not everyone is as lucky. I've heard from numerous moms around the world and young(er) professionals that many doctors, especially those in rural regions and of an older generation tend to "play it safe" and advise against physical activity due to "a sick heart". Yet, the modern medicine sings a different tune. I was recently reminded of it and reassured by a podcast episode of Fontan With a Future featuring a passionate sportsman, Tyler Šajdák, an adult with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome and a Fontan circulation.

Kids should be exercising, whatever that means to them. Whether it's playing a sport, dancing, or just going for a walk once a day. Sports is a great way to both build a camaraderie with teammates and classmates and whoever else they play with, but it's also a very good exercise. Especially the start-and-stop sports, as I call them, like baseball and tennis and few others, where it's hard for ten seconds, and then you can take a break for a little while; then again you play hard for ten seconds and you take a break. These sports are best for us, because it allows us to catch a breath in those seconds when you don't have to play. (Tyler Šajdák)

Tyler says he works out five days a week, each session lasting 30 minutes. It's sufficient to elevate the heart rate and stimulate the blood circulation throughout the body. And that's the point - while Fontan circulation makes blood flow passively, exercise makes it rush and fills the organs at the speed of a twenty-something college student downs a can of beer (I would imagine).

I loved hearing about Tyler's experiences and how his body, with a heart similar to our daughter's, responds. While Emanuela is still too young to articulate her feelings, I'm very eager to comprehend them. Understanding it might help me in making better parenting decisions, striking a better balance between my fears and her needs.

In the end, I'm happy to report she didn't abandon her gym classes. In fact, she's now keen on dancing as well. We're exploring opportunities for horseback riding, ice skating, climbing and swimming too. And though I worry (and vividly imagine) the possibility of her breaking a limb, falling off a horse, drowning, or any heart-related problems in between... I recognize those fears are mine to bear. Thus, I choose to not hold her back, to offer her the world (if she wants it), to gently push her forward, trusting her to pause for a breather when she needs it.