Friday, January 11, 2008

Antipation isn't always good

Early Monday morning our little girl will not be snuggled in her boppy pillow under her cozy, fuzzy pink blanket, safe and sound in her crib. We will be driving to the surgical center with knots in our stomachs and an urgent need to flee back home, lock the doors and never let our daughter leave the house. I know that she will not have that beautiful toothy smile on her little round face and that she will scream and cry in terror as they remove her from my arms to take her to surgery. The room will be white, sterile and full of blinking noisy equipment. She will be surrounded by strangers and she will be scared.

I know that when I next see her and kiss her face a million times that she will smell like antiseptic instead of like my little baby girl. I'm going to hate that. I know that when they bring her to me that she will be confused, afraid and in pain. I know she is going to reach out to me and cling to me and she won't understand any of it.

I wish more than anything that I could take her place, that I could take all of the hurt away from her, that I could make her understand that the pain is only temporary and she will eventually feel so much better and that I am so sorry she had to go through it. I know she will have a quick recovery and she will be back to herself in no time, but babies shouldn't have to hurt at all and I just wish that it was 2 weeks later already so it would be over. It feels like I am betraying a mommy-daughter trust and she will never forgive me.

I know that this is minor out-patient surgery and that I should be grateful that it's just an adenoidectomy and not something life threatening, BUT everything is relative. Whether it's minor or major surgery it's still surgery and it's still going to cause her to be upset, confused and in pain and we are the ones who will hold her, rock her, stroke her hair, sing to her and wish the pain away. We are the ones who are going to completely melt down and end up in a sobbing heap the minute she is home, cries herself to sleep and we have a single second to think about what she just went through.

She's our daughter. Her hurt is our hurt and I would give up everything to make it stop. She is young enough that she probably will not remember any of it, and for that, I am truly thankful.


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