Thursday, July 21, 2011

Some days, it's the little things

A quick little post for my first day back at work from maternity leave...

If you've read my breastfeeding carnival post from earlier this week, this will make a heck of a lot more sense....

Want to know how to get funny looks from an OR recovery room nurse? Tell her that you have a bottle of breastmilk for your three year old and that it's your understanding that it counts as a clear liquid, so he can have it, right?

Especially since he's only half awake, sobbing, and hasn't eaten a thing in over 12 hours, and won't drink apple juice or sprite from a straw in his semi-conscious sobbing state of unhappiness, and won't drink either from a bottle.

Want to know how to make her sniffle a bit and look ashamed?

Explain (after he's settled in with the bottle, and quieted considerably) that your *other* child is upstairs in the NICU and you're pumping for her...and that you didn't have enough milk for your 3 year old when he was an infant, but that you have more than enough for the little one now to share with your preschooler.

Yeah. That part was good. The rest of the surgery thing kinda sucked, with all the sobbing and not really waking up for several hours, and the obvious pain later in the evening, but I'm happy to report that we're now g-tube free! One stoma down, one to go....

1 comment:

  1. I've never commented before, although I've been reading for a bit (came over from Balanced Witches). I've never commented because your posts move me in such powerful ways, than I'm overwhelmed. I've never gone through any of what you're experiencing, but I do have children, and I can imagine. Your strength and perseverance are amazing. I always wish you the best and send a heartfelt blessing to you, hoping it will help you get through your day.

    In this post, I had one teeny glimmer of recognition in what you wrote, and I thought, "Oh! I experienced that! I know exactly how she felt!" While THAT'S probably not quite the case, still - I remembered the moment when my twelve-year-old daughter woke up after her third surgery for a badly broken arm... she opened her eyes, saw me standing there, and began to cry. She was just so sick of surgeries, and afraid there would have to be more.

    I would have done anything to make her feel better.

    Here's hoping Acorn blossoms without his g-tube. I imagine he'll love having it out.

    Blessings to you all.