Broken Hearted

I've spent the last 30 hours trying to hold it together, trying not collapse in a puddly sobbing mess. It's been a whirlwind couple of days. We've gone from Baby Bear's heart murmur being probably nothing to the cardiologist making concerned noises over his echocardiogram yesterday. It turns out he does actually have a congenital heart defect. And now Baby Bear and I are flying out to the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne tomorrow. We have an outpatient appointment in the afternoon but have been told to be prepared to stay as he may need immediate surgery. Apparently it's serious enough that the cardiologist told the hospital that if they couldn't get us an appointment this week then they should just consider admitting Baby Bear.

I'm all over the place. Trying not to let the mama guilt get to me just yet (was it me again? My antibodies that caused this?). Mostly I'm just trying to get through the next few days. And I'm trying to pack a minimal amount whilst not knowing if we'll be gone for a day or a week. I've stuffed disposable nappies into every spare nook and cranny of our bag. Incidentally, with Baby Bear wearing them this evening, I've discovered that there's not much to hold on to with a newborn in disposables! I think I prefer a nice substantial cloth covered bum.

*Sigh* The thought of my tiny newborn having heart surgery is unbearable. Beanie asked me this afternoon if his baby brother had a broken heart and if the doctors in Melbourne would throw it away and give him a new one.