Hummingbirds and Heart Heroes

Last week was a sad one for Broken Hearts’ families. We lost two sweet children to their congenital heart defects. Two-year-old Caleb Adamyk and 11-hour-old Tristin.

Over the weekend, a hummingbird flew toward my dining room window, hovered, looked inside and then flew away. We do not have hummingbird feeders, and I have never seen a hummingbird at my house before. 

Later, I remembered a passage in Bill Coon's book, SWIM: A Memoir of Survival, about how he saw a hummingbird for the first time in his life, and that's when he knew -- despite his failing heart -- he was eventually going to be OK. 

Thanks to Google and Yahoo, I learned this about hummingbirds:

“This energetic little bird migrates 1,800 miles from the eastern United States to spend winter in Central America. This distance alone indicates the hummingbirds’ stamina and perseverance. They can show us how to go the distance ... Hummingbirds have the advantage of seeing things from all angles and can show us how to expand our perceptions … The hummingbird serves to remind us of the beauty and wonder of the world. While their speed and sound may sometimes startle us, they help pull our attention out of the mundane so that we can acknowledge and appreciate the beauty of creation.”

Caleb Adamyk
March 20, 2009-Aug. 29, 2011

My hummingbird was a Godwink from Caleb and Tristin, two boys who defied odds by being here for the time they were here. Persevering and going the distance. Expanding our perceptions. Reminding us of beauty and wonder, and pulling our attention away from trivial matters to focus on what is important — focusing on faith, hope and love.

Remembering Caleb and Tristin, and all of our angels today, and keeping their families close to our hearts.  

Child with Health Condition Changes Life's Perspective

By Laura Pearson


During a routine ultrasound during my 25th week of pregnancy, my obstetrician was concerned when he was able to detect only my heartbeat. Another ultrasound showed my son’s heart was beating only 48 beats per minute. The average heart rate of an unborn baby is between 120 and 160 bpm. Immediately, I was sent to Shands Hospital at the University of Florida in Gainesville, Florida, where I saw an obstetrician who specializes in high-risk pregnancies.


Doctors determined I had Sjogren’s Syndrome, an autoimmune disease similar to lupus, and my unborn son, Cody, had complete heart block. After that, I received weekly shots of the steroid, betamethasone, to mature his lungs for an early delivery. Eight weeks before my due date, Cody developed congestive heart failure and I had an emergency Caesarean section at Shands.

Cody’s been a fighter from the start and only had to stay in the hospital for 16 days. We were sent home with instructions about how to watch for signs of congestive heart failure. That occurred within his first year and he had a pacemaker implanted when he was 10 months old. Cody is 15 now and has had four pacemakers. He is doing great. Now that he’s 15, he’s anxious to start driving. Although he’s not allowed to play major contact sports, he has played Little League baseball, soccer, and basketball. He loves video games and hanging out with friends.

In the beginning, I asked “why” almost every day. Eventually, I answered that question with “So I can help others so they don’t feel as alone as I have.” Guilt played a nasty trick on me that first year. After I kicked it to the curb, I set boundaries for both of us.


First, Cody would grow up believing he was no different from any other child. That may sound easy, but in reality, it’s extremely hard. They want you to feel sorry for them and it’s so easy to do so when you look at that angelic face and think how unfair life is.


So, to make it work, however, you have to resist the urge. Cuddle them for the regular scrapes, boo-boos and disappointments, but stiffen your spine when they put a hand over their heart and say things like, “My pacemaker hurts.”


No, don’t ignore your child when this happens (far from it). But instead of freaking out or melting into a pool of fear, respond to them the way “typical” moms do with children who complain about a stomach ache. After you’ve determined there’s no reason to call Lifeflight, then, if you feel like, you may go to your room and cry.


Having a child with a congenital heart condition has a way of changing your whole perspective on life. I wonder sometimes who I would be today if Cody had been born healthy. I’ll never know, but I do know that I’m a much stronger person of spirit, mind and body. It’s toughened me up, which is a good thing, and made me very aware of just how precious life is.