We promised a final update last night but we couldn’t do it justice after getting back at 9:30 and crawling immediately into bed. Out lovely webmaster, Sarah, posted a quick note so everyone knew we were all ok.

After the initial excitement of the our last update from the nurse liaison around 4:30 (mentioned in our last post) and then not soon after a visit from Dr. Emani we were recharged with the idea of seeing Wes soon. We grabbed dinner and a celebratory drink and moved upstairs to the Cardiac ICU waiting area. And then we waited, and waited, and waited. Around 9:00, 14 hours after first walking into the hospital, we were finally brought in to see Wes and it was all worth it. He looked amazing. He was (and still is) hooked up to a countless number of tubes and wires and sensors, but he looks peaceful and … surprisingly really big for his crib. I don’t know why I was expecting him to look different but I was so relieved that it was unmistakably Wes. His beautiful blond hair and that signature pale skin.

After such a long, emotional day and the overwhelming relief of being able to finally see him, mixed with my dislike of blood, I became a little lightheaded but was saved by Wes’s nurse Laura who brought me a ginger ale. We talked with the nurse a little, said our goodnights to Wes and walked back to our apartment.

After a good night ‘s sleep we walked back to the hospital around 8:00 this morning. We were greeted by Wes’s day nurse, Shawna, and given the good news that he had a great night. He’s still figuring out his heart pacing and at one point became dis-synchronous which means his chambers weren’t moving at the same time. It was most likely because of normal swelling. He was brought under control by an external pacemaker. There is a normal and expected ‘dip’ in stats and levels about 12 hours after such a large surgery that includes bypass, which we are in the middle of right now. The positive sign is that there is conductivity around his heart which doesn’t rule out the possibility of needing a permanent pacemaker, but it’s a good sign that there is some hope he won’t.

My dad told me a few months back, after watching all four of his grandsons for a few hours, that he could tell Wes was a fighter. He was the youngest and by far the smallest and he held his own with his older brother and two older cousins. I think anyone whose comfort object is a toy hammer, and that’s only because his mean parents decided his toy golf club was a little unwieldy for the hospital, has what it takes to come out of this situation with a big smile and full of pep (you know the other word) and vinegar.

One of the cardiologists came in to review his information. He’s from New Jersey (commented on Emily’s Long Beach Island t-shirt) and his name is Henry so he’s good in our book.

We’re now just relaxing in his room, reading him stories and trying to keep ourselves occupied.

Tomorrow our moms will be here around lunch followed by my dad and Henry later in the day. It will be so nice to see Henry, we can’t wait to see his big smile and give him a huge hug.