If I could give you my heart, I would...

Drove to the Medical Center today with Gigi (Daddy had to work late) and saw a Neonatal Cardiologist who did an echo on your little heart.  We were told that it would take about 45 minutes to an hour for them to finish with the entire ultrasound.

About an hour and a half into the ultrasound (yep, it was taking that long), the main doctor suddenly shows up.  I was thinking that it probably wasn't good news if the main doctor showed up before they were even done.

I finally asked the question that would tell me if something was wrong, something was really wrong or everything was okay.  Mommy has been to enough of these ultrasounds to know the protocall.

"So, how is everything looking?"

You see, I have deciphered the ultrasound tech code. 

IF they say, "Everything is fine."  That means that everything is fine.

IF they say, "I am still doing measurements."  That means something is bad.

IF they say, "I really can't say anything" or "The doctor will go over the results with you in a moment."  That means things are really bad.

The doctor told me, "I will go over the results with you in the conference room after this is over."  Which, in my convaluted code meant that things were really, really way worse than I had anticipated.

We were ushered into a conference room and we sat down.  The doctor started to explain how the heart works normally.  Then she went on to explain how a heart looks with a VSD (ventrical septal defect) which is what we THOUGHT you had.  Oh, how I wish that was what it was now.  Then she got another diagram out and started to explain what you actually have.  It's called Tetralogy of Fallot and it will require open heart surgery either immediately after you are born or when you are a few months old.

Mommy won't be able to deliver at the same hospital that she had your big brother at.  We will have to deliver downtown where the cardiologist will be able to examine you directly after you are born.  I'm not even sure if they are going to let me hold you right after you're born.  It kills me to think of you in the world for even a second and not being able to be in my arms (or Daddy's.)

Daddy called on the way home from the exam and asked how you were.  I sort of didn't tell him because he was still at work.  Instead, I just said that the hole was still there and I would have to call him back because traffic was bad and it was making me nervous.  I just didn't want to upset your Daddy while he was out and was going to have to drive.  He has been so strong for us.  He puts so much on his shoulders and carries it around with him all the time and he never complains.  He just keeps holding everything together.  I know that he has his moments.  I know when he is alone that he cries and he lets it out.  I know because he tells me.  But never in front of me.  He never burdens me with his own emotions.  He has just really been so strong for me.  So I tried to be strong for him.

It wasn't until he got home that I sat him down and told him.  I cried my eyes out.  It was the first time I cried about this since finding out.  I don't know if he cried or not.  It was very hard to see through all my own tears.

After we talked, we went to pick Matthew up from his Boy Scout Christmas party and then your Daddy went and hung up signs for Avy.  Oh yeah, our Bullmastiff, Avy, was stolen from our yard last night as we slept.

Today has been a fairly rotten day.  My dog gets stolen and then worse, I find out my precious baby has to have open heart surgery.  *sigh*

Gracie, I would do anything to guarantee you an easy, happy life filled with joy and love.  Apparently though, all I can do is try to love you enough that your hardships will not seem so difficult.  And I do love you, my precious daughter.  It takes my breath away how very much I love you already.  I wish I could do more than just love you, my sweet little girl.