Not much to say about Ira's day today. The pediatric cardiologist is excited about Ira's numbers and wanted me to tell Laura that it "looks great". Then the surgeons came by and were much more somber and cautious. I even confronted them about the difference in their attitude and the cardiologist's attitude. They said that when a CDH baby gets this far and is still this dependent then the results are mixed; therefore, they felt it was honest to be guarded and concerned. Ugh.

Laura wrote the following and wanted to share it:

I put mascara on today. I think it was my way of saying that today was going to be a good day; that I wasn’t going to cry to the point that it would all run down my face. It’s the end of the day and I still have it on. I guess its been a “good” day, for me anyway.

I walked with Sophia to the park this afternoon and all I could think about was that I should have two kids with me now. There is a certain void everywhere I go that will only be filled when and if Ira comes home. I was telling Joe a couple days ago how weird it is to go from being pregnant to not. To go from everyone staring at me (I was just so big) and giving me their seats on the subway (most of the time) to becoming just another face in the crowd. Usually new moms have their baby in tow like a trophy they can show off to those around them of what they’ve been through. I have nothing. I walk around knowing I had a baby two weeks ago but nobody else knows. It makes me wonder what burdens those around me are secretly carrying in their heart that nobody knows about.

Ira is so beautiful. I love the smell of his skin. I love to stroke his black hair. I love to kiss his cheek and let his little fingers wrap around my one. I long for the day when I will get to hold him, when my touch won’t cause him to de-sat (de-sat = fits = plummeting stats). I wait for the time when his cry will no longer be silenced by tubes but will be heard by everyone around.