So, bringing you up to speed, we got the news on a Thursday from the Pediatric Cardiologist. Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. I just can't say it enough times. Almost like the more I say it the more familiar it becomes. Who knows. But we got the diagnosis and I can't tell you one thing that happened on Friday. Not one. I just remember my sister kept Georgia for us on Thursday while we went to the pediatric cardiologist. She had no idea what was going on, she just asked if Georgia could spend the night and she would take her to school the next morning. I talked to Jason and this worked out for our appointment so we gladly accepted the invitation. Then, on Friday, my parents picked up Georgia from my sister because they were having a small slumber party with my one of our nieces and a soon to be niece. (she is the daughter of the woman my younger brother is marrying so she's already our niece in our hearts) My parents said they would bring Georgia home on Saturday. All of these arrangements were made BEFORE the appointment on Thursday. And thank goodness they were. 

Lie! I do remember one thing from Friday. I remember us telling Christian at dinner on Friday there was an issue with Baby Brother's heart. We didn't think it would be fair for our 16 year old to find out from someone else (very likely to happen once people start hearing about it) or in a group with a ton of other people. But that's it, that's all I can really recall about Friday.

Saturday we slept in a little. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted. And yes, I believe they are two separate states of mind. Midday I got a call from my parents saying they were on the way to bring Georgia home. Once they got here Jason and I asked if they had a minute so we could talk to them. We started to tell them what was going on and the looks on their faces will live with me for the rest of my life. You always think about what this does to you. How this shapes your world but you forget that this baby, our baby, means so much to them too. They are his grandparents. I am their daughter. The hurt seems to be multiplied. (these are EXACTLY the same looks and emotions from Jason's parents as well) For those who don't know my dad you don't know about the size of his hands. They are massive. We call them his paws. I have a picture from high school where his hand is on my back and it looks like his one hand is covering my entire back. They are huge. As I looked at my parents my dad had both of his paws covering his face in shock and hurt (and tears! he is a big softy). My mother was crying. Big hurt filled tears. There are no words to describe the pain I know she was feeling. She is my mother. She makes my hurts better. This was a hurt she could not heal. Although her hugs and kisses certainly made my hurts a little better. After what must have been the second biggest shock of their lives (my parents lost a son at the age of 10 weeks in the 70's so I would think that is the biggest shock for them) my parents hugged us, told us they loved us and offered any and everything they have to help us on this journey and they left. My parents walked into our home living one life and with that one conversation they left our home on a much different path. We welcome them with open arms on this walk.

After they left it was time to make a skype call that we wish we never had to make. Jason is from England. We met online, had a whirlwind, "world" wind for us ;) romance, decided to get married and I imported him to this country so we could live happily ever after. So, obviously, his parents are still in England. We skyped them and started to tell them the news. We went through the same spiel we had just given my parents and again with the looks. Theirs were different but the same, if that makes any sense. See, the one word I would use for Jason's parents was stoic, especially his dad. They wanted to be strong for their son. But, their eyes told a much different story. Jason's mother was visibly upset. Women are like that. You could see her eyes start to get red and filled with pain. His dad's eyes told the story of a man who had just been punched in the gut and might not recover. They witnessed Jason break down and I think that's why they were trying so hard to be strong but you could see their pain. Because, just like with my parents, this matters to them! This is their grandson too. And just the same as my parents, I know they wanted to take away their son's pain. I know they wanted to be in the room with us so they could hug him and kiss him and make it all better. But what do you say? What could you possibly say to make this revelation any easier for your child? I would say they were..... Speechless is the word that comes to mind. It seems everyone leaves the "hey our son has HLHS" conversation speechless. His parents were no different. Again, like my parents, they offered everything in their power. Even reminding us that we may be an ocean apart but they could and would be here at the drop of a hat. Or rather, as quickly as a plane could get them here, but they are willing and able to take the next flight when/if something comes up.

It's amazing how your world changes with just one phone call. We were so sorry to have to change the direction of our parents journey but we are so thankful for having such strong individuals on this walk with us. Each parent bringing something different and wonderful on this trip.