He’s not out of the woods yet. The nurses have been working nonstop to keep him stable. Last night’s nurses were truly angels—they did everything in their power to keep him off ECMO. We had to go home around midnight to rest, but at 3am, the hospital called to prepare us. His blood pressure was dropping, and they warned us that ECMO might be the next step.

But this morning at 6am, when I walked in and said his name, his blood pressure went up. Then Rafa came in—and again, it went up. He hears us. He knows we’re here.

The doctors are giving him until this afternoon to show more improvement. ECMO is still on the table, but they’re trying everything to avoid it, because it could actually make things harder for him.

His little hands and feet are cold. We’re holding them and using our body heat to warm him, but we also know we’re in the way of the machines and the care he needs. So we’re finding little ways to comfort him—music, our voices, our presence.

His eyes are open, but he has a blank stare. It’s not voluntary. He’s fighting silently, and we are too. The road ahead is unknown, but he’s showing us—moment by moment—that he’s still here with us.

Please keep the prayers coming. We believe they’re carrying him, and us, through this.