Just like any other night....

Our day started out bright and early.  Not as early as the other times we have headed down to the outpatient hospital, but still early for my insanely great sleeping baby girl!  Of course we were running a bit late (if you know me well, you know I'm always a bit late).  But this time, I actually had a good excuse.  Reeves felt a little warm to me when I cuddled up next to him, and I made sure he was OK for school before going to snatch Greer out of her peaceful slumber.  He was fine, and I left the older two kiddos in the capable hands of my awesome younger sister, Erin (by the way, if you live in my area and need an awesome babysitter....she's your girl!).

We arrived a little after 7, and Greer was happy as could be.  It is always a relief to arrive without any signs of fear (i.e. crying, screaming, fussing in general).  I have read/heard of children who have laser treatments frequently (like my Greer) who basically fah-reek when they drive into the parking lot.  Greer showed no signs of fear or anxiety, and that gave me great peace.

We waited the normal amount of time.  For a 5 minute procedure, it seems to take forever!

Check in. Sign consent forms.  Wait to be called back.  Weight check.  Vital signs.  Change into gown.  Talk to nurse.  Sign more forms.  Talk to anesthetist.  Talk to anesthesiologist.  Play in playroom.  Drive around in little red wagon.  Talk to Dr. T.   Mark the site.  Wait.  Walk to the OR doors.  Hand baby girl off.....

But this time, that part wasn't so easy.  She cried, and screamed, and cried....

And it broke my heart....and I knew it was what 15 month olds do.  She did it at church on Sunday, and sometimes she does it when I leave to go to the bathroom.  It was separation anxiety, pure and simple.  

I got coffee....and I waited.  and PRAYED.  

I prayed for the doctors, the nurses, the scrub tech, the cleaning lady.  

I prayed for her to be OK.  I prayed for me to be OK.  It's unexplainably difficult to put your child through something like this....electively.  I always question myself, even though I know I am doing what is best for her in the long run.    

I had peace and anxiety and fear....all at the same time.

I thought about how lucky blessed I am to have a healthy child....that this is as bad as it gets for us.....hopefully forever! I prayed for Stellan and Mary and Rollins and Alan.....

Thank you God.  For we are so blessed.  For this is a privilege.  A gift.  A blessing.  The chance to give my baby girl the best life possible.

But it's still hard.  It still exhausts me.  It still hurts her.  She still needed double the normal dose of pain medicine, and she still cried and screamed in Recovery.  The anesthesiologist still had to come and get me cause he knew I could hear her screaming.  He made sure I was OK and assured me that she was OK.  And she was....especially when they brought her back to me.  

We rocked, and I sang to her.  She looked up at me....all drunk and spacey.... and I knew she was OK.  She was safe.    

And you prayed, and I prayed, and we made it home safely.  And she slept......

and slept and slept and slept.  Then she woke up....and ate and ate and ate.  And you know what?????  Tonight turned out to be just like any other night!

  

She drank her bath water.

and tried to catch the drops coming out of the faucet.

She went swimmin'  and gave me a big ole' smile!

And when she was all done, she stood up, flashed her big blue eyes...

and she begged for a bite of her brother's ice cream.

It is Well with my Soul....Thanks be to God!