To be perfectly honest I've been actively putting off writing about Zane's surgery in the hopes that maybe that would make it all disappear. Maybe we could pretend like these past few months never happened. However, we are entering Zane's birthday week and I don't feel right about not documenting this huge event in some way. So with that being said I'm going to try to recap our experience in a few posts. Hopefully now that we are safely on the other side of things I could possibly write some lessons we have learned as well.
I should start by saying that in the months leading up to this big event, as we faced each new and difficult challenge, I had been channeling my father and his habit of pre-crying. Here is a quick story to tell you what I mean by that. When I walked into the back of the church on my wedding day I started to at the sight of my dad. Somehow my overly emotional dad was not crying. When I asked him how he was not crying in this huge moment of walking his baby girl down the isle he happily said, "Oh I have been crying for months. I'm fine now." That's how I have been preparing myself for this battle, get all the tears out, all the stress, all the fears, all of the mental breakdowns over with, before it is time to fight. This way when I walked my baby into that hospital we were ready going to war. This has truly been a journey of a warrior and believe me when I tell you my son is a warrior.
The surgery portion of our journey started on Wed. May 30th with a full day of pre-op testing and appointments. Zane had been anxious, terribly behaved, exhausted, angry, sad, really running the full gauntlet of emotions for the past few months. There was part of me that was really ready to get this process started and hopefully get my old, happy Zane back. There is only so much you can talk, prepare, and pre-cry for a terrible event, sometimes it's better to just dive in and get it over with. This is how I felt about pre-op day. Was I petrified about the road ahead, yes, but as we drove to the hospital I felt a wave of calm and confidence wash over me. We were ready.
Grammie and Papa had arrived on Tuesday and brought everyone new Cardinals hats. This was the perfect thing to wear to all the appointments, no eye contact required, exuding confidence of a Cardinal. He is a warrior and his Cardinals hat became his armor.
Pre-op morning went well. We met with all the cardiology team, had an xray, ekg, talked to the cardiothoracic surgery NP, went over the schedule of events for the next day, and all was going well. Then off to the pre-op area for the hard stuff. It took four sticks to get his labs, lots of digging and missing obvious veins as I tried hard to keep my mom hate securely on. I fought the urge to switch into my nurses hat and draw his blood myself. Anesthesia ended up getting his labs and Zane handled everything like a trooper, playing games on the ipad through it all. Child life was there, being amazing like always. Then back to see the surgeon to sign consent. There is something about signing that paper that says we know all the risks, including the possibility that he won't wake up, that really is a gut check moment. Zach has had the honor of signing consent both times, it never gets easier to watch.
We made it home by late afternoon and were met by Zach's parents (who had been watching the little boys all day) and my mother. Mom offered to take Zane swimming at Abbey's neighborhood pool before dinner. Swimming has been the one thing Zane had been very sad about not being able to do this summer. I know this quick swimming adventure wasn't easy for mom or Abbey to pull off, but it was the perfect thing to do the day before surgery. Then we had a fun, celebratory dinner with the Richards clan, as we all juggled our own emotions, fears, and ways of dealing with the situation. My children were all a terribly behaved, scared, nervous, emotional wrecks. This was all completely understandable, but still hard to watch them try to navigate through all those emotions at such young ages.
Somehow I put my boys to bed that night. I can barely think about it. How I could kiss Zane good night knowing what lied ahead for him the next day. But like so many things on this journey we just did it. Zach and I were fully prepared for Zane and Rowan to come out of their rooms fifteen times. I was prepared to try to figure out a way for them all to sleep in my room. But they didn't come out once, they went right to sleep, quieted by fear and the grace of God I'm sure. That night I fell asleep fine, but was woken up at midnight by gale force winds whipping outside my window. I got up thinking our house might get blown away. After a few minutes of loud wind and watching our little trees fighting to stay upright, the wind died down and a gentle rain followed. I dare not go back to sleep while the peaceful rain fell. I wouldn't want to miss a minute of dad's comforting presence, the calm before my storm.
We were out of the house by 5:45a.m. surgery morning. Thatcher woke up at five and came out to play with Grammie. Zane was up and ready, serious, but calm by five as well. We were packed up and ready to go before Rowan woke up. Zane asked if he could go say good bye to him. This was one of only about two moments on surgery day when I started to tear up. Watching Zane climb up that ladder into Rowan's bed, give his little brother a kiss, tell him he loved him, and then walk have to walk away. It was borderline too much. I of course also had to do this sad goodbye which was utterly gut wrenching as well.
Then we were off to battle. It was a quiet, peaceful drive to the hospital. Terrible things happen to every child and every parent handles them with grace. It is rare, and turns out horrible, to know when the terrible things are coming, and have to drive your child to them. For months every time I walked into work I would get sick to my stomach at the thought of the moment I would have to walk my warrior into the hospital for surgery. However, on the day of surgery I was fine. Zane was his normal happy self so we were all calm and ready. My favorite pre-op nurse checked us in and got us ready to go. Uncle Able showed up to lighten the mode as we waited. The surgery nurses came in and marveled at the size of our seven year old heart kiddo. Pictures were taken, we sent videos to family, and before we knew it he had gotten his versed, was feeling a little loopy, and off he went. My advice to heart mom's at this point is to kiss your warriors before they take them down the long hall to the OR and under no circumstances look back after that kiss. I made that mistake in St. Louis, looking back seeing him with a stranger, not this time Satan, not this time! I gave him a hug and a kiss, he was sleepy and feeling good, and off we both went.
Zane was full of nervous energy, but in good spirits.
Zach picked this shirt out especially for surgery day because it was the shirt he wore the day Zane was born. Why does Zach still have this shirt from eight year ago, I'm not sure.
So with the birthday shirt we thought we should recreate the birthday footprint picture as well.
Hand pictures, because I love hand pictures. See his remember dot birthmark on his left hand? That has been there since he was a baby, it's his built in kissing hand situation. I thought it would disappear as he got older, I'm so happy it has not.
Last pre-op picture. It would be a while before we say this sweet smile again.
This is probably a good time to say I know everyone the hospital. At least a large number of people on each unit. Everywhere we went on pre-op day people would walk into a room and say "Do I know you? Do work here?" because I know a lot of faces and a lot of people recognize me that might not exactly know who I am. So this meant I knew our pre-op tech, our nurses, the social worker, the clinical coordinator of the hospital that day was a dear friend, and I had a whole tribe of people throughout the hospital ready to come to my aid. As soon as we got to our waiting room my tribe began to show up. We needed towels so I called a lady who I know works everyday who promptly brought us all the towels and wash cloths we could ever need. Friends brought cookies, cupcakes, balloons, presents, and texted to check on our boy. Janet, the coordinator came by to make sure we were being well taken care of and make sure I had all her numbers incase I needed to get ahold of her for anything.
My family all gathered in the waiting room and the miracle of God's grace took hold. We had a fun time hanging out, eating chips and dip, and talking while my son's heart was being stopped and cut open. Truly a miracle that I've sat through that experience twice now, both times fully calm, cool, and collected, even laughing, not curled up in a corner crying somewhere. Don't believe in the power of prayer, trying doing something that seems absolutely impossible, watch yourself do it, feel that calm feeling of love and support wrapped around you. That is the power of prayer! My dear friend Jessica showed up, because that's what we do for each other, show up repeatedly through the absolute worst things imaginable. Jessica spent the better part of last year living in that hospital with her baby boy. I would never in a million years want to go back to that place after all she has been through, but she's one of my people and she showed up and was amazing. Thank you for being there Jessica, it did truly mean the world to me.
So time passed and we watched the monitor that showed that he was still in the OR and when he moved to the ICU. We got texted messages from the nurses in the room, with terrifying things in them like this little gem here.
So we ate more chips and dip, courtesy of Uncle Able and played with Keith the motivations T-Rex because what else are you going to do really. 
Then the moment of truth. One of the many moments in this journey that felt almost like an out of body experiences, where I just think, "why in the world am I having to do this" but then somehow I manage to do it anyway. That heart breaking moment when you see your kid for the first time after heart surgery never gets easier and nothing can prepare you for it. For some reason I felt that he looked much better immediately post op this time than after his first surgery. I think because he wasn't intubated this time and all the tubes/drains/lines coming out of a bigger body was a little easier for me to handle. Zach would disagree with that assessment and said he thought it looked like a horror show.
Mooly has been there since the beginning and laid with him after his first surgery. He was there through it all this time as well.
The rest of surgery day was a rough. The first time he woke up was probably the worst moment, pain wise, for Zane. He woke up confused, in pain, and worst of all really scared. I can't imagine waking up after heart surgery, as a child, with a million things coming off of or out of our, and being in that much pain. The nurses were wonderful throughout and got it quickly controlled as I tried to comfort him without over stimulating his new repaired heart. Walking that fine heart mom line of being there and trying to comfort without making it worse with pats or singing or talking, all the things you're normal mothering instincts would tell you to do. Everyone came in to say hi and get a glimpse of our warrior. He slept and tried to talk, took some sips of water, but mostly slept as his body fought to recover.
Heart momming is no joke friends.
Aunt Love
By the end of the day I did get to see a few glimpse of his blue eyes. They were tired and sad, but they were just as blue. I knew our next battle was just beginning, but I took great comfort in seeing those eyes.
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