*Thank-you for the reviews on the last chapter they were greatly appreciated. Thank-you all so much*
I race into the hospital doors with my father in law by my side running through the main entrance as the receptionist is yelling at us. I don't have time to stop I have to get to my wife and my son. That's the most important thing to me. We reach the elevator and I press the up button several times in haste until Mark pulls my hand away and says, "Relax, it's coming." The doors open before us and we nearly take out the nurse and doctor stepping off the elevator car. I press the number floor we are heading to; Floor number 8 to the NICU. I tap my foot as the elevator ride takes forever. It feels like years have passed by the time we step off the elevator and make our way to the receptionist in the NICU. I sign in and Mark signs in after me. I am scrubbed up into a pair of scrubs and make my way to the NICU door. The nurse allows me to enter and I make my way over to the incubator that holds my son.
"I'm here," I say to Willow as I wrap my arm around her waist. She says no words as she wraps her arms around me, holding me tight as she starts to cry on my shoulder. I glimpse at our son over her shoulder as the doctor is working with him, checking on him, listening for a heartbeat that has declined down to nearly nothing. Willow's tears soak my shirt as she cries harder on my shoulder. I watch my son struggling to breathe before my eyes. "We're going to need to do the surgery, Willow," says the doctor as he looks up at me.
"Surgery? What surgery?" I ask. "What's going on? Can someone fill me in on what's going on?" I ask with a panic in my voice. "What's going on?"
Willow unable to say the words without choking on her words and tears the doctor began to tell me the news. "Kekoa had a scare this afternoon. His heart rate dropped and his blood pressure got low. He coded once but we were able to revive him. We took him to have an echocardiogram and to see the pediatric cardiologist here to check his heart to find out what was going on with his heart. There was a hole found in his heart. It is causing the blood to fill up in his heart and it isn't pumping like it should and it is getting into his lungs. We almost lost him. We're going to do our best to repair the hole in his heart with open heart surgery but we need to do it now if we wait he may not make it."
"Wait a minute," I say my panic turning to anger. "I thought you said everything was going well for him. How do you miss a hole in a child's heart?" I ask.
"We didn't have any reason to believe he had a heart defect," he answers. "He showed no signs until today."
I run my hands through my hair as I hold my crying wife in my arms. "And the surgery is going to fix it?"
"We're hoping that we are able to but because he is so small and so premature it provides a risk in the procedure."
"What are the chances he is going to make it through the surgery?" I ask.
He looks at the nurse and then he looks at me with a solemn look on his face. "There is a 25% chance that he will survive the surgery. There's a 75% chance that he may not. We need to do the best we can to hopefully have him come out healthy and with a good heart. If we can't repair the hole in his heart the blood will continue to build up and it will end up killing him."
"So you're saying if we don't do the surgery we're going to lose our son but if we do the surgery there's a bigger chance we'll lose our son and a small chance he will survive the surgery."
"I would say to stay positive," he suggests. "If you think the worst then the worst will happen. There is a 25% chance that your son will survive the surgery."
"I'm not a math genius but I am pretty sure that is a 1 and 4 chance of survival from this surgery which means out of 4 there is only one that would survive that surgery. What if my son is not that one?" I ask.
"We are going to do everything in our power to make sure he is the one," he says. "We need to get him to the OR or we will lose him now."
"Okay," I agree. "Please do your best can we get a minute with him before you go?"
"Yes," he nods before he and the nurse leave us with Koa to spend a couple of minutes with him before surgery.
I make my way to my son and place my hand into the holes of his incubator and run my fingertip over his skin. "Hey, Buddy," I start to say. "I know you're a fighter and I know God has a plan for you whatever that plan may be I'll understand it. One of my greatest joys in life was becoming your daddy and having you in my life. I love you so much, Koa. You'll always be my little warrior. I know you're a fighter and you're going to fight hard. I know you are. You're strong and powerful," I say before I speak to him in Samoan telling him of his people, their fight and how he is a fighter much like them. I wish I could kiss him, hold him whatever before he goes to surgery. I kiss my hand and touch the top of the incubator. "I love you," I say barely higher than a whisper. "I love you," I say as tears burn my eyes. I take in the sight of my perfect son, his tiny little face and his pouty lips and his head full of black hair more hair than the normal child born so early in their lifetime. He's absolutely beautiful. He melted my heart the first moment I saw him and it has been hell seeing him in the incubator. He is just the perfect creation. Willow and I created a masterpiece.
I allow Willow to have her time with our son and leave the room so she has the private time with him to say what she needs to. I lean up against the wall and lay my head back. I know how much Willow loves our son. I know how much being his mommy means to her. Even though she didn't want him to start with and didn't want to be pregnant she has grown to love our perfect masterpiece. I couldn't have chosen a better wife and a better mother for our son. She has been to the hospital every day all day spending time in the NICU with him. The love that fills her green eyes when she looks at him or when she talks about him is evident. She's been working on the nursery when she comes home from the hospital at night, counting down the days till he comes home with us. I see a life with us where we have Koa and Alani, spending days at the beach, playing out in the yard, swimming in the pool, bedtime stories and days full of laughter and tears. He's the greatest thing to happen to us. We need him in our lives, we need Koa. HE is our strength.
The doctor walks into the NICU and Willow walks out shortly with tears covering her beautiful face. "You okay?" I ask holding my arms open for her as she walks into them and starts to cry again.
"I'm scared, Joe," she whispers into my chest as I hold her tight as the doctor wheels Koa out of the NICU.
"Me too," I say as I watch them walk down the hall with my son with the hope that we will see him again soon. The nurse guides us to the waiting room where we sign papers and give consent for our son. My heart breaks signing them. I watch Willow as her hands shake as she signs each paper. I know her heart is breaking apart as she signs each paper. Then we are left in the waiting room with Mark, waiting to hear the news of our son.
"Can I get you two anything?" asks Mark as we sit quietly, Willow leaning into my chest, our hands linked together as she plays with my wedding ring.
"No thank-you," I say. "Willow?"
"I can't," she says. "I'm worried about Koa," she says her voice hoarse from crying. "What if that was the last time we'll ever see that perfect little face?"
"We can't think like that, Baby. We have to stay positive."
"You heard him we should still prepare for the worst," she says. "Even you said it. There is a 1 in 4 chance that he will survive this surgery. How did they miss this? Would it have been any different had they found it?"
"I'm not sure," I say honestly. I kiss the top of her head. "He would have needed surgery regardless."
"He's just so little," she says. "He is like a peanut."
"I know," I say. "But he is mighty. He is going to fight his best, Willow. He's a warrior and he comes from a strong bloodline. He is from a powerful group of people."
"He is," she says softly. "I don't know what I would do without him, Joe. At first I didn't want to be pregnant and I didn't want to be a mom but now I want to be a mom more than anything especially to that little boy. He's everything to me, he is my heart outside my body," she says. "I love him."
"Me too," I say as I hold her. "I don't understand any of this. I'm trying to understand it but I can't why is this happening to him? Hasn't he already been through enough? How is this fair to him?"
"It's not," she says. "It's not fair, Joe. Daddy," she says. "Tell me everything is going to be all right. Please tell me everything is going to be okay."
"Willow," he says. "I wish I could predict what is going to happen but I can't. Of course I want to believe he is going to come out of this and everything will be okay but I still have the fear that he may not. Eventually everything is going to be okay and work itself out but right now we just need to pray that God does what he needs to and that God works on his plan that he has for this little boy." Mark may be one of the strongest men I know but seeing him like he is in the waiting room I see his anxiousness and his sadness. If he can't be strong how can I be strong? This is my son, Alani hasn't even gotten to meet him yet. She needs to meet her baby brother she was so excited when we told her the news. I take a deep breath and just pray to myself that everything works out the way God plans. "We don't know his plan, Willow," he says.
"I know, Daddy," she says as she snuggles closer to me. "Can we talk about something else, focus on something else?" she asks. "I can't think about it right now. It's too hard."
"What do you want to talk about?" I ask wishing I could take away her fear and take away her pain.
"Something else," she says, "it can be anything. How was your lunch?"
"It was good," I say with a nod.
"Yeah it was good, Joe and I have come to an understanding," he says, "right Joe?"
"Yes," I say. "Willow, I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for the accident and I am sorry for getting suspended."
"Stop apologizing for the accident. It wasn't your fault. And you know where I stand on your suspension. You made a mistake, everyone makes mistakes we aren't perfect. You will learn and grow from this and you're going to go back and be the best WWE Superstar that you can be. You just need to work on yourself over the next 30 days."
"I am," I say. "At least I still have a job and I am going to do whatever they ask of me. I don't care how many matches I have to lose. I am going to prove to them I am serious about my job I screwed up."
"You did but you're doing good with owning up to screwing up," she says. "You can't keep beating yourself up over stuff Joe. You can't."
"I know," I say. "So how is the wedding planning coming?"
"I haven't even done a thing since Koa was born," she answers. "I haven't had time. What do you think of the colors Blue and silver for our wedding night?"
"I think it's beautiful. I want you to be happy with the wedding."
"It's your wedding too," she says. "We both should be happy but I am wearing Cowgirl boots."
"I didn't expect anything else," I say as I kiss her lips softly as she looks up at me with a smile. It is the first time she has smiled in days. "Are we doing a winter wonderland wedding or are we doing a rustic country theme wedding?"
"I don't know," she says. "I like the Winter Wonderland but I want a touch of country in it too. We are getting married in Houston on a ranch after all."
"Sounds good to me, I have 30 days and then 3 months to meet with a wedding planner so that we can get this wedding together. I promise I am going to be around more. I know how important it is to you that we work together on this and I am going to be there."
"Thank-you," she says with a smile. "I love you, Joe."
"I love you too," I say, "and no matter what happens today I am going to be here by your side. We are going to get through this together."
"For the rest of our lives," she says with a smile before I kiss her soft lips again but nothing could compare for the news we were about to hear. Nothing, I wasn't prepared at all when the doctor came into the waiting room. We all stood on our feet as he enters the room. "How is he? Is the surgery done already?" she asks quickly.
He put his head down and shook his head before looking back up at us and I knew the words he was about to say. I grabbed Willow around the shoulders and held her close to me as the doctor spoke the words I had been fearing, the words we hoped to never here. "We did everything we could," he begins. "I'm sorry but we lost him. We did everything we could but the surgery just wasn't successful. He didn't make it," he says like he's ripping off a band aide on hairy skin. It couldn't have hurt worse. "I'm sorry," he says as Willow collapses down to the floor in a squat. Painful sobs and anguish escape from her as I squat down with her, holding her tight as she bawls into my chest, holding tightly to my t-shirt as I hold onto her, hugging her and kissing the top of her head as I cry with her. It doesn't seem real. It can't be real.
*A/N: What did you think of Koa's diagnosis? Could it have been caught sooner? Do you think it would have made a difference for him if it was? What did you think of Joe's final words to his son? What do you think of Willow's and Joe's conversation in the waiting room? Why do you think Willow wanted to take her mind off of Koa? What do you think of the surgery and the results of the surgery? How do you think this will affect Willow and Joe? How do you think this will impact their marriage? Please review and thank-you for reading.