A Father’s Day Reflection: Carrying Three Hearts

By James Runco

Each Father’s Day, I find myself reflecting not only on what it means to be a dad, but on what it means to be the father and husband in a CHD-affected family. That phrase, heart warrior, has become a part of our family’s daily language. It's a badge of honor earned through surgeries, checkups, late-night monitoring, and the quiet, ferocious resilience that lives inside my wife and our child, both born with congenital heart defects (CHD). And while our second child doesn’t carry the diagnosis, he carries the legacy. We all do.

When you're a father and husband in a CHD-affected family, your world changes before your baby even learns to crawl, sometimes before they are even born. You learn to read echocardiograms like bedtime stories. You measure milestones not by baby books but by pulse oximeters, lab results, and post-op recoveries. You celebrate the moments when they can simply breathe without help. You walk into hospitals with more hope than fear, but only just.

I’ve watched my wife wage her own war beside our child: sleepless, tireless, determined. An unstoppable force. As both a father and husband, I’ve had to learn how to be strong without being distant. Vulnerable without unraveling. Supportive without pretending I always have answers.

Now, as a father to a second child without CHD, I’m navigating a different kind of emotional terrain - the juxtaposition of relief and guilt. The simplicity of pediatric wellness visits feels foreign. The absence of monitors in his room makes me glance at his chest rising and falling, just to be sure. His health is a gift, but it doesn’t erase the invisible emotional muscle memory of what came before.

This journey has taught me that being a father is not just about protection. It’s about presence; especially when you're terrified. It's about advocacy - not just in your own home but out in the world. Because love alone isn’t enough. Our loved ones need research. They need funding. They need legal frameworks that ensure care and lifelong support.

As dads, we don’t just raise our children; we raise awareness. We raise questions. We raise our voices when policies ignore the real, lived experiences of CHD families. We raise money not just for personal hope, but for collective progress. Every family in the CHD community prays for a miracle. The work we do now means that more will get it.

Raising awareness doesn’t always mean a headline or a podium. It means showing up; visibly. Wear the shirts. The ones from the CHF walks or other fundraisers, the ones in your drawer that tell the world these kids matter. Speak up in your places of worship, your schools, your workplaces. Be that guy who brings it up at dinner. Because if anything is worth being “that guy” for, it’s this. CHD isn’t rare - it’s just rarely talked about. Let’s change that.

This Father’s Day, I’m thinking of all the dads who’ve sat beside a hospital crib pretending not to cry. Who’ve Googled conditions they never knew existed. Who’ve memorized the beep patterns of cardiac monitors: and I’m thinking of the ones who are just starting that journey - uncertain, scared, but ready.

To you I say: you are not alone. Your fear is valid. Your love is powerful, and your role is essential… not just within your family, but in the broader fight for every heart warrior and heart angel.

My time in Washington, DC has shown me that the barrier to progress isn’t always complexity; it’s often resistance. But here’s the truth: children’s heart research has no opposition. No lobbying group is fighting to keep our children sick. That’s our advantage, and we need to use it.

So call your representatives at every level. Tell them to fund CHD research. Tell them to support legislation that makes fetal echocardiograms available to any family who wants one; because early detection saves lives. The system will not change on its own. It changes when we demand it.

I’m proud to be the dad of a son who fought harder in his first week than I ever had to in my life. I’m proud to be the husband of a beautiful woman who beat the odds at a time when the odds were terrible. I can’t imagine my life without either of these two bright stars in my sky. I know that I’m one of the luckiest men in the world, and I want that same feeling for other CHD dads.

This Father’s day, I’m going to reflect with gratitude as I have in the past. I’m also going to act.

Thank you and Happy Father’s Day!