Heart Surgery: Done.

We have nearly reached the end of a five day journey that has felt like months. At 7:30 this morning, our brand new baby girl underwent heart surgery to repair an underdeveloped pulmonary valve in her heart. Two doctors used a catheter to navigate to the tiny valve and then a slightly less tiny balloon inflated to stretch it to a better working capacity. While this is on the lower end of heart surgeries, it is still someone going into your baby's heart. Tough to stomach. But about an hour after going under, those doctors were finished and our baby was fixed.

As of now, Roselyn lays in the bed next to me in recovery. Her heart is fine. She's now a completely healthy baby. In fact, the cardiologist told us we would be able to go home if it weren't for the anesthesia. Her heart is fixed. There's nothing wrong with her. They just like to keep an eye on someone that was put under when they only weigh six pounds. We're in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit and they love her. "It's so great to have a healthy baby," they say. Those are such great words to hear after all the drama we've experienced this week.

I can't explain what the last few days have been like. Emotional. Tiring. Delirious. Joyful. Tearful. Complex. New. Shortly after the surgery and all the good news, I went outside and realized how claustrophobic I've been in that hospital. I felt like I was breathing for the first time in a while. I wanted to ride my bike. I wanted to walk outside instead of taking the shuttle. I wanted to sit on a bench and just... sit. It was kind of strange to feel that. I think all of my emotion and energy has gone towards feeling on behalf of Roselyn. That was the first moment I felt for myself. As strange as that may sound, I think it was a sign that the weight has lifted. It felt so good to broaden my concerns to include petty things like riding a bike. In the last few days, the only thing that mattered was survival. At this point, I can expand my world of concern.

What's next? One more night in a hospital. They're talking like they may even take all the monitors off tonight. But tomorrow morning we'll be loading up Roselyn and she'll get her first ride (that's not in an ambulance). We'll take her home and she'll get snuggled and cuddled by our six-year-old. She'll get kissed a thousand times by our four-year-old. And she'll get poked in the eye by our two-year-old. It will finally be normal life and our house will finally be full, as will our hearts. We've been waiting desperately to be a complete family. Tomorrow's the day.

These words are of the "family" variety. But, hey, this is family//bike//words. I'm proud to share good news with any readers. I'm a beaming father, proud to claim Bliss, Clive, Abe and now Roselyn as my little flock to shepherd. It's a blessing to belong to a family with them.

Soon enough I'll be back on the bikes. But for now, I'm just happy to have the room in my brain to dream about it.

Get out there.