Maybe by explaining how it happened, we will find some teensy bit of relief from the overwhelming amount of grief we feel.
The doctors sat down with us on Tuesday to go over Wyatt’s most recent echocardiogram. Over the weekend they explained, his heart function had actually decreased back down to 10%. We were heartbroken as we sat and listened. I stressed that he had shown an increase in function after the first week, that the blood output went from 10% to 35-40% blood output. That if he had done it before, couldn’t he do it again? His doctor looked at us directly and slowly shook her head, calmly saying that she did not see Wyatt recovering from his heart failure diagnosed nearly three weeks prior. That it was irreversible.
Never in my life had words sounded so violent and so sharp. Irreversible heart failure.
We did not want to hear these words, and Brian flat out said, I cannot accept this, I will not accept this. How was this even possible? What was the surgery? What was the gap to fill, the valve to repair, the artery to widen? The chamber to split? We were told that none of these were possible because it was a heart function issue, not a heart structure issue. How did this happen? She explained that so much of what the kidneys do, is filtering and ridding our bodies of toxins. That yes, creatinine is one marker of how well they are functioning, but that there are multiple other toxic elements that are untraceable, until they show up as a negative effect in one of the organs. That the poor heart was affected negatively by these very untraceable toxins. None of what I am writing looks right. I can’t even make sense of it or check to see if I am expressing how the conversation went, or how we reacted. We held hands tightly.
Can we do dialysis?
Well, you need a strong heart to support a stressful procedure like that.
Would a heart transplant work?
He is so little, only seven weeks old, and has compromised kidneys.
Is it his kidneys? Is it his lungs? Is it his heart?
Yes and no. In the end, it is all of them that are not working in their intended symbiotic manner.
We visited him each day, told him we loved him, turned on his music for him, sat next to him. Wednesday we did the leg work to get a second opinion, filed papers, made phone calls, faxed forms, cried with friends, held each other and prayed. Wednesday night I kissed his head, with all his soft light brown hair and baby Wyatt held on to Brian’s finger. We told him we loved him, again and again.
Our lovely, perfect, sweet, beautiful-eyed baby died on Thursday morning. His little heart just could not continue. We wept over him and cried out for him and it was awful.
We love Wyatt. He is our son and always will be.