I took a couple of days off, putting down my camera and computer, and simply enjoyed the new addition to the family. A new rhythm is beginning to develop in the house, and I can’t express how marvelous it is to have Julia home. There is not a lot of sleep; we just haven’t gotten the hang of it yet. But there is the joy of not having to schlep to the NICU twice a day; and knowing that, for now, our daughter is safe.

Not that we are not spending time with doctors. It is amazing the crush of appointments our little girl has been a part of. But here is where I’m glad to give you some very encouraging news: Julia had an appointment with a blood specialist regarding her platelet condition, who told us that her count had almost doubled since the last blood sample. This is great news, since we have some evidence now that the whatever was destroying her platelets is beginning to resolve itself. We’ll need to take another blood count on Monday, but we felt like this was a great win and one thing we can take off our list of concerns!

Perhaps the most encouragement came from our meeting with Dr. Elliot Weinhouse, a specialist in pediatric cardiology. We first met him a few months ago at Julia’s multidisciplinary consult (a collective meeting with all of the disciplines surrounding Jocelyn’s pregnancy and Julia’s heart and genetic condition). I have met him a few times since then and have been impressed with his deep concern not only for the child, but for the well-being of the parents as well. His regard for life can only be described as… reverence. These are more than cases for him, as evidenced by the pictures of all of the children he has treated over the years that cover all four walls of his office. In our first meeting with him in June, he used Julia’s name without our prompting him; and from that moment, his stock went way, way up in our minds.

Julia went to meet with Dr. Weinhouse today for an echocardiogram (basically an ultrasound of the heart) and a consult on her situation. An Orthodox Jewish rabbi in his off-hours (I believe), he spoke in glowing terms of the essential beauty of the structure of Julia’s heart, despite the malformation that was again confirmed in the ultrasound. He described her ventricles – the lower chambers and the area of primary concern – as symmetrical and sound. The blood vessels entering and exiting are well formed and free of defect, and the conjoined valve that will eventually be separated is sealing very well.

From a symptomatic standpoint, Julia is showing no signs of distress in her breathing and none of the discoloration or feeding issues that one would expect. We were especially encouraged when Jocelyn noticed one of the notes on his chart: “So far, so good.”

The game between now and the surgery is a race to a body weight of eight and a half pounds or so before the symptoms manifest themselves to the point of danger to her life. The ugly truth is that without intervention, Julia is on a slow boat to congestive heart failure – a term that is not quite as scary as it was. The process will be a slow one, and delayed by short-term drug intervention. But we have our marching orders: Get this kid to eight or nine pounds, and surgery can proceed most safely. If you are the praying type, please ask our Creator for a long delay in the symptoms so that Julia’s soul can remember as little discomfort and distress as possible.

On a more personal note, fatherhood is beginning to settle in on yours truly. I carried my daughter today through the examination – from the weigh-in through the echocardiogram to the EKG. I have heard her squawk in indignation at the pokes and prods by the NICU staff and was beginning to feel a little less sensitive to them. But this morning I was thunderstruck when I saw tears in my daughter’s eyes for the first time as the technician pulled off the leads of the EKG.

Amazingly, after everything that we have been through thus far, today was the first time I cried for my daughter.