Saturday 6th November

Well, they talk about this journey being a rollercoaster (without the fun), and that is the best way to describe the weekend so far. We knew Willow was coming back today, and waited for the phone call from Southampton. The phone call came at last, and we were very excited to be welcoming our daughter back to Poole.

As we arrived at the hospital we saw the ambulance outside, and couldn't wait to get up to NICU. There she was, in her old incubator, next to her brother where she belongs. The doc was still with her getting her sorted, so we talked to Stanley for a while. He was being his usual self; turning himself around, brewing something in his nappy, pulling his tubes out. We had him out for a cuddle, and he handled it really well.

I could look at his face forever - the wave of emotion I get when he looks at me is quite overwhelming. I never used to understand it when people would talk about how amazing it was when you see your baby for the first time - but it really is. There are no words to describe it. You immediately just love this little person more than anything in the world; it just doesn't usually take 5 or 6 weeks to even see their face. Up until the last week or so, I've never been brave enough to let go and really believe that our babies might actually get through this.

When the doc was free, he came and talked to us about Willow and her 'crummy' (in his words) situation. He showed us her latest x-ray, which happened to be her 26th x-ray in 42 days. It didn't look good - you could clearly see half of her right lung collapsed, and the rest of her lungs covered in a hazy mist. A good example of bad chronic lung disease, no less. Not only that, but a distended tummy - hopefully just full of air - pushing up against her diaphram and not helping the situation at all.

He talked us through what was going on. The operation had successfully fixed her heart, so that was working nicely. Trouble is, a heart is not much use when the lungs are in a bad state of repair. The longer she stays on the ventilator, the worse the lungs will get. So that was the plan for the next couple of weeks - to wean the ventilation so they can take that damn tube out.

With Willow's predicament now worse than it ever has been, it was time to go home and do the only thing one can do in this situation - ball your eyes out until you can't do it any longer. Which is what we did. Again.