Tricky’s second (and hopefully final) surgery for his Craniosynostosis is tomorrow.
For the first round of surgery we were travelling in to the unknown. I had no point of reference. I hadn’t had to deal with a baby needing surgery before. I hadn’t had to deal with a sick baby before. Hell, I hadn’t even had to deal with a baby before! I had no way of knowing just what we were in for.
Everything was new and scary.
It was like the first day at a new job when you don’t know where to go, don’t know anyone’s name, oh, and your baby is about to have his skull cracked open.
But this time? This time it’s still scary, still nerve-wracking… but different.
Last time it was major surgery. Days of morphine, special care nursing, neurological obs and machines that go PING. This time it is merely day surgery… a few hours later and Bob’s your uncle, kid is fixed, off you go, don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
Last time I was worried about how he’d feed afterwards, if his eyes would swell shut, if he would still be my little Tricky. And whilst that is on my mind now, my worries this time revolve mainly around the anesthesia.
At 14 weeks old, Tricky fell asleep in my arms before surgery and a lovely nurse with a divine Irish accent, gently lifted him from me and took him to theatre. I only saw the waiting room.
These days, as an inquisitive eight month old, it’s a rarity for him to fall asleep in my arms; and whilst he will quite happily be handed around to most people for cuddles, he does have his shy, only want Mama moments… which means it’s highly likely I’ll have to go in with him.
To the shiny, white, sterile cocoon.
To the shiny, white, sterile cocoon.
I will have to watch him be anaesthetized.
Go pale and limp.
As if dead...
And I am shit scared.
As if dead...
And I am shit scared.
Map Guy has said he will do it. But there is something stopping me from accepting his offer.
There is a strange mix of emotions going through my head. My thoughts are swinging madly between fear and the deep yearning to protect a child. My child.
I should be able to do this. I shouldn't give it a second thought.
He's my baby and he needs his mother.
He's my baby and I need him.
I should be able to do this. I shouldn't give it a second thought.
He's my baby and he needs his mother.
He's my baby and I need him.
I read Fi’s post over at Calm Blue Ocean, about her daughter who had to spend some time in hospital and why she chose to be the one to stay, and it resonated with me.
Some would call it martyrdom whilst others will call it protective instinct. Fi suggests it might be her control issues. Whatever it is, that drive, that force... it's powerful.
Some would call it martyrdom whilst others will call it protective instinct. Fi suggests it might be her control issues. Whatever it is, that drive, that force... it's powerful.
This is not just my job, it's my life; my blood; my baby.
If he can go through two skull surgeries before he's nine months old, then the least I can do is be there to hold him.
To see all posts relating to Tricky's Craniosynostosis journey click here.
To find out more about Craniosynostosis click here.
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Meet Glowless at the Aussie Bloggers Conference thanks to
My Roonie had to go for surgery 3 times when he was 9 month's old. He had septic arthritis and I had to go in every time and help hold him down. It was terrible watching it be down, but still in some thought of way it made me feel better because I could see how good the Dr's and nurses treated him.
ReplyDeleteMuch love to you for tomorrow and I hope Trickys surgery goes fantastic.
Sending prayers and good vibes for tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteGlowless - firstly big hugs and wishing you love and luck for tomorrow - whether day surgery or major surgery, it's still surgery & it's still as scary as fuck.
ReplyDeleteYou have summed it up SO well in this one sentence
"If he can go through two skull surgeries before he's nine months old, then the least I can do is be there to hold him."
That's exactly how I feel about taking my kids for blood tests/holding them down while they have a drip put in/any other scary shit they have to go through. How is it fair to expect them to be brave & trust that this is something that needs to happen to get better if you can't even stay with them through the ordeal? It just wouldn't be right.
I hope that Tricky's anaesthesia & surgery go by without event tomorrow and that he's back to his happy, inquisitive self in no time at all.
Will be thinking of you xx
Good Luck tomorrow! I will be thinking of you both! I have had to do a couple of things like that over the years and it's always tough, it never gets easier, your heart always breaks and then you get the huge flood of relief when you realise everything will be ok xx
ReplyDeleteMy husband is very squeamish about needles, surgery, medical procedures, so I am often the one to be there with this sort of thing; however, I can only imagine what you must feel having to see your bubby undergo two surgeries.
ReplyDeleteGood luck for tomorrow, will be thinking of you and hoping that all goes well.
Scary stuff, but I understand how you feel. I'd need to be there too.. I hope all goes well...
ReplyDeleteMy son had to have hernia surgery when he was 2. I carried him in to the operating theatre and held him while the absolutely amazing theatre staff took care of him and anaesthetised him. I was grateful that I was able to lay him down gently on the table and give him a kiss before I left the room.
ReplyDeleteFor me it helped knowing that the last thing he would remember was being cuddled by his mother and the first thing he remembered waking up was me being there by his side (they called me in to the recovery room as soon as he arrived there).
It's one of the most challenging things about parenting, I think, that there are times when we would give anything to be in the place of our child when they have to go through something like this, but the only things we really can do is be there with them.
I will be praying that everything goes smoothly tomorrow - that Tricky will be calm and the procedure will go well. Big hugs to you both for being so brave.
This post brought tears into my eyes. My daughter will have to have some minor surgery (her thumbs don't straighten), but because she is so young and doesn't stay still she will still need to go under full anesthetic. Ever since I found out she'd need the surgery, I've been petrified. Part of me wants it over and done with as soon as possible and another part just wants to forget about it.
ReplyDeleteI hope Tricky's surgery goes well and I hope you don't have to do it ever again afterwords. First time or 100th time, I can't imagine it getting any less scary.
Wishing you nothing but positive thoughts for tomorrow. I've gone through 3 GA's with my little ones but their surgery was totally minor, and still it was very hard to walk out of the theatre clutching their blankets knowing someone else had to care for them. You're a wonderful mum and it doesn't matter what makes you stay tomorrow, all that matters is that you are xxx
ReplyDeleteYou can do it, I would have to do it to, there is something very powerful about needing to be there for a sick child. You want them to know that there is no need to be scard, you are still there for them and everything is going to be ok.
ReplyDeleteOh big hugs for you and your little Tricky. I think I would have the same dilema as you if I were in your place.
ReplyDeleteYou will be in my thoughts tomorrow xo
oh geez. As strong as that instinct is... sometimes I just hand things over to the mister. Somethings I just do not need to see, and sometimes it's okay to just be the one to make things all better again.
ReplyDeleteGood luck. hugs.
Glowless - All the absolute best for tomorrow. I will think of you, Map Guy and most of all Tricky.
ReplyDeleteI was there when they anaesthetised Farmgirl. It is horrible but the staff are aware of that and will be absolutely lovely to you. He will be fine. I made it out into the theatre corridor after holding it together and promptly burst into tears - the orderly who was escorting me back to the ward was so gorgeous. He told me everyone has a little cry...
Take care. I am glad that this is hopefully the last thing you and Tricky need to go through.
xx
All the best, will be thinking of you tomorrow! I took A in for the first spring surgery, and let hubby do the second one. Similar to Tricky, A was asleep in my arms the first time so I didn't have to see him "go under", but just handing him over was bad enough. I know I can't take away your worry, but soon you'll be looking back saying "that wasn't so bad" (well, of course it was, but I hope you know what I mean!)
ReplyDeleteSending you positive thoughts for tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteXx
Big hugs and best of luck, you will keep it together at the time and if you want to go to pieces afterwards then that is ok. Sending tons of good vibes to Tricky. Jen
ReplyDeleteThank you all for your lovely words, it was a nice warm and fuzzy feeling that so many people who have never met Tricky were rooting for him.
ReplyDeleteI had no sleep last night thanks to some pre-surgery jitters, so I'm about to go straight to bed now that we're home.
Love Glowless xxx
I know it's a bit late to wish you good luck knowing that everything is ok already via twitter, so I am sending you a bottle of wine (virtually) and all the good healing vibes for Tricky. :*D
ReplyDeleteGlad it all went well. I had to take Riley in to surgery when she was a year old and no part of it was fun. Hope the little man is recovering well, along with his lovely mama.
ReplyDelete