Surgery is Scary

I find myself easily swept up in the stories of other surgical kids on Facebook and blogs. My heart reaches out to each and every family as I follow their journeys, watching through experienced eyes.

For the past five days I have been following the story unfold of a newborn named Adilynn Jo and her life saving heart surgery that happened a mere 24 or so hours ago. Ms Adi's parents have been posting throughout the day about her recovery, and I'm immediately taken back to those early weeks of Brooke's life. 

There is a numbness that overtakes you as the hours tick by before, during, and after a major surgery for your child. A black cloud of fear looms just overhead, knowing that the worst case scenario is out there... the numbness shields you from focusing on it too much. No matter the numbness, there are still tears, still panic, and a heavy amount of silent praying. Even when you had no religion before, you suddenly find yourself praying.

Brooke's last big surgery took place on December 31st, 2011, and it lasted over 8 hours. I don't remember much, only snippets of finding out they still could not correct her condition, and all of the explanations from the doctors of what the next year would hold for us. 

I was recovering from my c-section still, pumping breast milk around the clock, and beyond exhausted from everything that had happened. There is so much guilt in my heart that I left her alone in that hospital room while she recovered, though I know she never woke up, as she was so heavily medicated. Yet, I can't help but feel guilty that I left her. She was in capable hands, and the nursing team was encouraging of our getting a good nights rest (so important to rest so you stay healthy while your baby is in the NICU!), and we are so fortunate to live only 7 minutes from the hospital.

The long and short of it is that surgery is scary. In that moment, you have no control and you must release all sense of having any say in what happens. It is heart-wrenching to hear from the surgical team what they are going to do to your child. Even though you would rather bury your head in the sand, close your eyes and hope to wake up in a different place, you have to know all of these details. And you have to allow yourself to be numb, while simultaneously feeling a rush of horrifying emotions.

Then you pray. And find a god you may have never believed in before. Because, surely, some higher power has got to help you and (most importantly) your child, get through this.