Those of you who are blessed with children will understand and those without can probably imagine. My youngest daughter had to have minor surgery to repair an eye lid recently. I was completely fine with having this procedure done (we have known it was coming for 3 years). This lid defect is something that she was born with and it was beginning to obstruct her vision. There were medical reasons that out weighted the risk of surgery on a three year old. However, knowing intellectually about the process and being prepared emotionally for the day when it would happen is different.
We had spoken to her about going to see the doctor to get her eye fixed. But how do we explain to a child that someone is going to come get you from Mommy and Daddy and take you back to a room where they will put you to sleep and cut on your eye? How much information is too much information?
When my husband and I decided to have children, we said that we would never lie to them and answer their questions as they come as honestly as we can... and on a level that they can understand. An example of how we have done this is:
My eldest asked about the Easter Bunny, if he were real. I asked what she thought and then told her, no. A giant bunny doesn't go house to house delivering gifts to children (which is kinda creepy to me... Johnny Darko), but rather it is a game that children and parents play and that we are happy to play it with her if she likes. So she pretends and we supply gifts.
Now, back to the surgery. I decided to play the day of the surgery by ear and hold true to my policy of answering questions honestly. Thankfully, our youngest daughter(3yrs old) didn't ask any questions. She woke the morning of surgery in a great mood and never asked to eat or drink ( she couldn't partake until after). She sang and danced around the waiting room. She quickly went with the nurse when her name was called, leaving her father and I sprinting after her. However, once in the pre-op room, her mood changed.
The nurse told us to remove her pj's and have her don a tiny hospital gown. She was not happy about removing her favorite monkey pajamas for an old ratty gown. She behaved until we put the "monkey jammas" in the white plastic bag they provided. Her easy cooperative attitude changed as quickly as her attire. She didn't want the booties, she didn't want her blood pressure taken... It was getting bad so I whipped out my secret weapon, a Nintendo DS. She then played with the nurses and talked to the anesthesiologist. When her familiar doctor came in she recognized him immediately and started putting things together. I am unsure of what she thought was going on up to now. The people were all strangers and it was unfamiliar but she was going with the flow. Once she recognized someone, she knew something was up and began to act uneasy. The surgical nurses came in and she was okay until they took her. This is another point that I was not prepared for.
How do I explain to my daughter that it is okay to go with these complete strangers? Why was is surprised that she began to cry? I should have anticipated this. I spend all of my time telling her not to go with strangers and here I am giving her to two women dressed in odd clothing. Once they took her from me she began to protest and as they took her through the doors I could hear her cry, "MOMMY!!!.. my Monkey Jammas!" I thought she was scared. Really, she just didn't want anyone to get her pj's.
Let me tell you, if you never have kids you will never understand. But, I have yet to experience anything more excruciating than knowing that I cannot be with my child.... Knowing that even if I wanted to see her, I could not. Couple that with the risks of anesthesia for the first time ( you never know at this age how they will react or if they have medical allergies)and the waiting is painful. I tried to occupy my time playing on my DS and being nosy on Facebook, but the minutes seemed like hours.
I had visions of her fighting the nurses, crying for me, being confused, angry, or scared. Then I would wonder what part of the procedure he is doing right now. Wondering if it was going according to plan. Praying that she doesn't have any reaction to the medicines that they were now administering to her. Thinking about her tiny body on the table. How little she would look surrounded by all those doctors. What her eye must look like split open... What would she look like after the surgery? Would her eye be black and blue? Would it be bandaged up? Would she be nauseated from the medications? My thoughts flopped frantically the hour and a half that she was away from me.
Soon, we were taken to a private room where we met with the doctor. He explained that the surgery went well and that he was happy with the results. He told us that the muscle in her eye was deformed or incomplete. But that he found it quickly and pulled it tight to help her open the lid. He stated that it will be a bit swollen and told us how to care for her properly while it heals. Honestly, I pretty much stopped paying attention to him as he spoke and just wanted to get my hands back on my baby as soon as possible. He began to sound like the teacher in Charlie Brown... a trombone squawking in my head. I desperately longed to know that she was okay. I wanted to touch her and see her.
Then, I thought again about what she must look like after undergoing surgery. Swollen? Did he say Swollen? I prepared myself for the worst and tried not to cry out of relief. After several long minutes of waiting, we were taken to a little room where they brought my tiny daughter to me. Much to my surprise she was talking and smiling. Her eye wasn't really that swollen and wasn't discolored at all. She looked rather normal. The lid did look like a Frankenstein Monster lid, but really considering the images I had bouncing around in my head an hour ago, she looked great. I held and rocked her as nurses and the anesthesiologist came back and forth to make sure she was okay. They gave her juice and crackers and she ate and drank while clutching to me. She looked around and said, "They take me night-night." The nurse came in and told us we could get her dressed and she was happy to be reunited with her monkey 'jammas.
All in all, the experience was a good one considering that no one wants this for their child. I feel guilty that she was even born with a defect in her lid. I wonder if it was inherited from me or if it was something I did while pregnant. Intellectually, I know that there is nothing I could do about it either way and am so relieved that modern medicine can correct these things. But emotionally, I hate it. I hate that she had to go through this. I hated not being able to help her. I hated not being able to be with her. Now, when I look at her I am so glad that she had it done, but it breaks my heart to see a row of stitches across her beautiful little eye lid.
I guess this is how it is going to be for the rest of my life. Parenting is hard to describe. I have never loved someone so much prior to having kids. And with each child my heart grows. Yet, with the love comes the pain of loving someone so much. The worry and the joy. No one prepares you for this when you talk to people about having kids. No one tells you that as a parent you will experience love and joy unlike any you have ever know... and because of the overwhelming love you will also experience new levels of worry, sadness and frustration. Is it worth it? Yes. I wouldn't change a minute. I will happily take the good with the bad and pray that there is always more good.
