There is a sense of terror at the thought of your child going under anesthesia. A sense of complete helplessness. I thought I was good with the plans for tomorrow and was surprisingly calm about Warren's upcoming surgery. I've known about it for about 10 months now, scheduled and cancelled it several times, and not given it too much thought along the way. He has hernias which need repaired. It's supposed to be one of the easiest surgeries with minimal recovery. So, I thought I was doing good, prepared, and ready.
We met with anesthesia nearly a month ago to plan and determine his risk level. I was hoping it could be done outpatient, but we were kindly informed "no." He needed the main OR, the special equipment there on standby just in case he didn't tolerate the anesthesia as planned (just like his mommy...) I heard all about what to expect, what he was going to be facing, duration of the procedure, etc. And, I was ready.
But then, this afternoon, I get a call from the nurse. She's telling me what to bring for him for the day, about the gown he'll be placed in for the procedure and his 24 hour stay, the gas they'll have him breath to help with his separation anxiety before they take him back. And it hits me, like a wave. This flood of emotions I wasn't expecting. This flashback to their first moments, when I couldn't see or touch them. It breaks my heart that Warren needs to be given a special medication to keep him calm, that he could potentially be screaming hysterically without it, and that I will have no way to calm him down. No way to comfort him. As I'll be home with Dean. I've been saying that will be a wonderful distraction, but now I just feel this sense of guilt that I won't be with Warren. That he'll need his mommy, and I won't be there. It only makes matters worse that he refuses all bottles, cups, etc and will only nurse. He's going to be hungry, hurting, scared, and without his mommy. Oh, but Daddy will be there. What sweet cuddle time they'll have together! How precious that sweet time was with Warren while he was still in the NICU and Dean was home. No distractions, just me and Warren snuggled up together in the recliner, his resting quietly up against me. How I pray that would be all they get to experience together tomorrow!
So, as I anxiously wait for tomorrow to come and go, to put this behind us, I am praying constantly for Warren, his recovery, the doctors and nurses who will be working with him, and for our anxious hearts to be surrounded by God's peace and comfort. Updates to come after surgery tomorrow!