A Long Day

Yesterday was a very long day - the baby had to have surgery to correct a twist (torsion) and bend (chordee) in his penis. I didn't blog about the surgery beforehand because, frankly, I was too scared. The thought of my little baby having to go under general anesthesia was unsettling. I am happy to report that everything went well. I wasn't allowed to feed the baby anything after 5 am (except for Pedialyte) the day of surgery, which was one of the hardest things because he was SO HUNGRY and he kept grabbing for my chest and I felt so bad to have to deny him food. He had his last nursing at 4:30 am and then I was hoping he would sleep through the morning without wanting to feed, but he ended up kicking and searching for me at 5:29 am and it was just so horrible knowing that I wouldn't be able to give him milk. The Pedialyte just didn't cut it and without getting milk, he ended up staying awake for the most part, napping here and there. But his spirit is so strong that he was still able to laugh and smile and play with his toys in the waiting room, making friends with the other patients and the nurses, despite the fact that he hadn't eaten for almost TEN HOURS by the time they began his procedure. I would stroll him around the waiting room if he started to get fussy and he fell asleep in short spurts. Auntie L was thankfully with me and she held him for a long time so that he wouldn't be reminded of the milk he wasn't getting, as he would have if I'd held him. About five minutes before they finally were ready for him (FOUR HOURS after our hospital arrival), he had a big meltdown, and I was able to sway him to sleep in my arms, so that when they came to take him to the O.R., he was fast asleep and didn't even know that we were being separated. I gave him a little kiss on the forehead as the nurse carried him off. And then I left the hospital for a bit to distract myself with lunch. I managed to stay calm and positive the entire day, no tears. I think it was the build-up to the surgery that was harder than withstanding the actual surgery; the time between finding out he needed surgery and the actual surgery was short, only about 5 days, but 5 very anxious days. I was so exhausted once they took him into the O.R., staying up late the night before to pack up his toys and gather my prayer stones and rosary and spiritual jewelry and amulets and set up my Mother Mary candle. I also xeroxed a quote that I love and that helped calm my anxiety during the last stretch of my pregnancy, from a long-lost book that Brooklyn destroyed and that I happily rediscovered in a pet store. The quote is by Buddha and states: "Be vigilant; guard your mind against negative thoughts." I pasted six copies of it all over the house before falling asleep at 2 am next to my precious baby.

The surgery lasted a little over 2 hours, and the doctor/surgeon (who I found out is the sister of a VERY FAMOUS movie actress) assured me that it all went well and that the baby was fine. She ended up not having to do as much repair as she had anticipated. She brought me back to my baby, who was still conked out from the surgery. He was lying in a hospital crib bed and I just couldn't wait for him to wake up. He is such a great sleeper, like his Mom, lol, so it took about another 20 minutes or so for him to open his eyes, at which point they completely unhooked the remaining tubes and I was able to nurse him on the spot. He nursed only a little and fell right back asleep. He ended up sleeping most of the evening, becoming less groggy and more of his smiley self as the night progressed. Today, you would never think he had surgery, he is his old active, happy self. And I am so proud of him!

I had planned to rent a breast pump over the weekend so that I would have somewhere to put all the milk that I was going to be producing and not feeding before the surgery. However, I didn't do my full research and thought the day was going to be much shorter than it was - once I was told when I'd have to stop feeding and was given an arrival time at the hospital of 10:30 am, I figured surely the procedure would begin somewhere around 11 am. I've gone that long without nursing before and it hadn't been a problem, so I didn't bother to rent the pump. Well, boy oh boy was I mistaken. Once the clock hands passed noon, I was so engorged and in so much discomfort! The breast pump rental place was just across the street, but I didn't have my attachments with me, and it cost more than I'd expected to purchase a new set. I didn't really want to venture too far from the hospital during the procedure, just to be safe, so running home to pick up my own attachments was out. So I opted, against my better judgment, to purchase a low-end pump at the drugstore, just to relieve the pressure of my growing breasts. I was wearing a V-neck, spaghetti-strapped sundress (I figured I would dress nicely to keep the day positive), which made me even more aware of my expanding bosom. When I returned from my outing with lunch and pump in hand, I ran into the bathroom, opened up the pump, and was kind of grossed out by the condition of the pump. The box had been sealed, but still, the pump looked dingy, like someone had returned it. I know that was probably not the case, but still, I just didn't want to take a chance, there was already too much on my mental anxiety plate. So I MILKED myself in the family bathroom, like a COW!! It felt simultaneously weird and normal, and I did feel some relief. My breasts had red streaks running down them from where my hands pressed and squeezed. I felt incredibly self-sufficient and empowered.

All in all, I am glad that the day is over and all is well. My son is a real trooper, and a very special and inspiring guy.