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Isaac's second surgery came just 3 months after his first. He was 4 months old when his lip was repaired, now at 7 months, it was time to repair his palate. I had more confidence going into this surgery: I knew what to expect. I also had more reluctancy: I knew what to expect. Three months is not a lot of time in between procedures. I wasn't looking forward to going through things again, so quickly. As I wait for surgery # 4, I'm learning you never really feel ready.
Pre-op went smoothly, yet again. The "happy juice" they give about 30 minutes before surgery deserves mega-kuddos. (Maybe they'll give me some of that stuff next time?? JUST kidding, sort of.) I am so thankful that he was sleeping peacefully when it was time for him to leave for surgery. The nurse who wheeled him into surgery was grumpy and let me see how to say this, a bit hag-ish. I'm glad Isaac's "happy juice" was in full swing so he didn't have to deal with her. She was rough and cold. Needless to say, I wasn't a fan. I walked beside his bed as she wheeled him to the doors. Me, the one who doesn't cry in front of people--EVER, shed a few soft tears as I turned around. Oh no, my reputation is ruined--now what am I going to do? (Please tell me you can hear the sarcasm.)
I was not prepared for the agonizing after-care that the palate repair entailed. Looking back, I say with confidence that he was under medicated and had pain that wasn't properly managed. He was fussy and irritable in the hospital and at home for a solid week. It was frustrating and beyond nerve-racking. There was no amount of holding, rocking, or pacing that would soothe him. It felt like I was doing something wrong. I couldn't find a way to satisfy my baby. That made me irritable and on edge, like an angry grizzly bear woken up in the middle of hibernation. I took my frustration out on Wayne, and we fought horribly. Isaac's cries and constant unsettled state was hard, hard, hard. I foolishly thought that going home as soon as possible would help things settle down between Wayne and I and things would get better. It seemed like getting out of the hospital would alleviate some of the stress, but that wasn't the case. We came home and made it through a night of pure agony. At midnight, shortly after a dose of tylenol with codeine, Isaac was crying and in pain. It was another two hours before I could give him more meds. I know that I know, that I know God's power is real. It is the only way we made it through those two hours. It was a miracle that he calmed down and slept on my chest until I could give him another dose of medicine. I learned the hard way that staying another night at the hospital's not as bad as it seems.
The most important thing is not how hard it was, but that we made it through and Isaac's palate repair was successful.
