The PDA is fixed. The surgeon went in and made a small incision under my boy's left shoulderblade and slipped a titanium clip around the right place, and now Robbie has a functioning heart that should fix the blood pressure problem and help him grow and thrive. It's amazing what can be done these days, with just a few things. Ultrasounds saved him from distress. Heated isolettes are keeping him warm while machines breathe for him and deliver warmed breastmilk to his stomach a few drops at a time. Other lines bring the raw nutrients to his blood directly. All this, twenty years ago, could it have happened? I want to say that yes it could. I don't really know.

Combined with the miracle of my newborn, the miracle of what is being done now to bring him home to me unscathed is enough to completely take my breath away. Is there anything more to life? Is there anything bigger than a newborn child that could fit in a loaf pan?

Emotions are starting to get the better of us here. Tempers are running high. I don't know where to begin to help my husband. He is keeping everything to himself again; trying to be strong. He's the support, he's the rock, and when will he let any of this out? How hard dare I push?