Waiting room

So far, so good (about halfway though, I think).

On the way in this morning we listened to several Lauren-selected songs. It was a hope-filled playlist. "Don't worry about a thing," Bob Marley reassured. "Cause every little thing is gonna be all right."  I believe him.

Lauren texted up until the very last minute, where cell phones were no longer allowed in the hospital. Even then, she squeezed in a few messages before powering her phone all the off (maybe) for the first time ever.

The nurses and doctors joked with her about fencing, college searches, being 16. She was relaxed and laid-back--so much that I wondered if they had slipped a little relaxant in her i.v. but then, when they really did , it was obvious. Still serene and calm, she started discoursing at length about her own private pillow. Bless her heart.

Yes, please. Bless her heart.

What a miracle, the beating heart. On the ultrasound, the valves of heart look like the arms of a pair of synchronized swimmers, rhythmically liquid.  Opening and embracing, predictable and sure.

I'm looking forward to some good embracing in a couple of hours myself.

Thank you all for your good thoughts and well wishes. xo