Going on ahead...

At around 4 pm today, the oxygenation of Fisher's blood fell abruptly to nearly zero percent. Shortly thereafter, in the arms of his mother, Fisher Daniel Kayne passed away, one month and three days into what had been a very trying life.

From the moment of his conception to the moment of his passing, Fish had to fight for everything. We take some measure of solace knowing that he suffers no more.

We held him for over an hour after the battle for life had been lost. The doctors assured us that he was not in pain. Our families were there at our sides. Our son was surrounded by people who love him.

We've spent the last two days at the hospital, with doctors and nurses (even nurses we don't remember) approaching us to express their condolences. Many of them wept. Their shock only reinforces the feeling that Fisher's death was virtually unforeseeable until the damage had already been done.

We already own a twin stroller. We tell people that we're going to the hospital to visit "the guys." Stupid little thoughts like these run through our minds.

Truman is still unwell, but continues to improve. We're doing what we can to retain some sanity with regard to his care. Every little blip gets our radars screaming. Knowing now that a perfectly healthy baby can suddenly suffer horribly, there's not much hope for peace of mind.

We will miss you, Fisher Daniel Kayne, king of brooklyn and prince of our hearts. Rest now.

More later. Sorry to be so inarticulate and abrupt, but we're operating on no sleep.

Much love to you and thanks for your support.