Breathing is hard to remember to do but Jaime and I and Simon are all working hard tonight to gather our strength, breathe, and get ready for tomorrow which could potentially be a really big day (and if not tomorrow then pretty soon thereafter).
Simon has stabilized to the point that tomorrow morning they will assess whether or not he can begin the extubating protocol that will eventually result in him being back to breathing on his own. It's a several hour protocol and will only begin if he can make it through the night relaxed and stable with some, if any, of his stats improving (including his heart rate, respiratory rate, blood oxygen levels, and blood pressure).
He has had two transfusions of blood and has begun to get what is essentially gatorade through his I.V.
Jaime and I spent some time at home this afternoon gathering things to make his stay just a little bit more pleasant and in the picture you can see that we've plastered all the available space on his equipment with photos of himself in more robust times as well as the many folk that just love the bejeezuz out of him. He's also surrounded but his pony and duck that hopefully have the strong scent on Jaime and I on them as well as the birthing beads that were made at his Baby Shower (that we never got to cuz the little bugger shot out so fast)
He's already become a darling of the ICU and has the most amazing nurses looking after him (us too).
If he does in fact get the tube out tomorrow and get off the ventilator it also means that for the remainder of his recovery he will remain on sedatives but be much more aware and in touch with what's going on in terms of the number of needles in him, where he is, and the fact that he's not going about his regular business of swaddling, cuddling and canoodling with his mommies. In other words we are getting ready for little Shimmy to be letting us know in no uncertain terms that this time sucks buckets. For those of you that have been lucky enough to be around him when something is not going according to his plans know that he speaks his mind loudly, in such a way that not only are your heart strings tugged upon but they in fact feel like they are being ripped from your body in terribly painful ways.
Really though it does mean that we are all on an active road to recovery, whatever kind it may be, AND that Shimmy can soon be held and eventually get back to nursing and looking into his Mama and Mommy's eyes.
We're off to bed now.
There are not enough words to thank everybody for the messages, emails, and palpable love that seems to be flooding in.
Are hearts are full, and keep it coming.
Todah Rabbah ("huge thanks" in hebrew)
Laura, Jaime, & Shimmy