When your alarm sounds at 5:30 a.m. you know it’s the start of a not so ordinary day. When I heard that not so sweet sound on my night stand I knew, no matter how bad I wanted to, I could not push snooze. Instead it was time to quietly slide out from underneath my super warm covers and prepare myself both physically and emotionally for a very full morning.
A morning of anesthesia and hospital gowns. Not for me, but for my 2.5 year old. It was one of those moments in parenting where I couldn’t push away the thought of, “I wish it was me.” I wish it was me the doctor would be checking and not my little guy. I wish it was me who couldn’t eat breakfast because he was about to have “surgery.”
But, 5:36 a.m….no time for thoughts of empathy, simply time to do the next thing.
I proceeded to get myself ready while my husband woke our sleepy toddler. “Where are we going daddy?”
No answer from daddy.
Sometimes it’s just best if we don’t find out things too early. After a summer in and out of the pediatric office, the last thing he wanted to hear was we were going to check on his ears…again.
Fortunately our little guy was too sleepy to ask any more questions or request breakfast as we shuffled to the car at 6 a.m. A quick kiss goodbye to daddy and baby sister and we were off. We’ve known for a few weeks now that Colby needed tubes in his ears.
A simple, outpatient surgery. It would be good for him. No shots even needed. But something about hospitals and surgery cause a mothers heart to beat a bit quicker. I think it’s the unknown, or perhaps the lack of control. (Like we ever really have control to begin with?)
We’d received the information we needed, we’d prayed with friends and family, and it was time. So as I drove my little man down an empty early morning road doing my best to keep any feelings at bay, it was go time. Which of course means country music on the radio…
As soon as we entered the hospital parking lot he immediately knew we were at the doctor. But, with our toy moose in hand, he stepped out of the car and trusted me as we entered the office for check-in.
A few short minutes later we took an elevator to the second floor for surgery.
We were greeted by a sweet nurse who whispered to me above Colby’s head, “Does he know what he is here for?”
I politely smiled and whispered, “Not a clue.”
Without missing a beat she weighed Colby and did all the necessary checks before we met with the doctor. Our little patient was then placed into his hospital gown, puppy dogs and all:
Not so sure about it all, I continued to do my best to distract and make everything seem super fun! (All the while wishing the whole thing could just be over with.)
Our ENT doctor came in and chatted a minute and told Colby he would see him down the hall. A few minutes later my sweet boy began to tell me he was ready to go home. So, I did what any good mother would do, I bribed him with McDonald’s after we were finished.
When the anesthesiologist & another nurse entered the room my little man went silent. How is it we all know “hair nets” and scrubs mean something is about to happen?
But the team was great and prodded my little man with all sorts of questions. He finally opened up when they started to ask him about McDonald’s. (There’s a reason those golden arches have taken over the world.) And before I knew it they had convinced him to walk down the hall way with them for a bit and then he could come right back to mom.
And just like that, he was gone…
Of course, the “feelings” momma that I am was ready to react, but it was not the time. Instead I pulled a granola bar from my bag and turned the hospital t.v. onto “Say Yes to the Dress.” After all, what else should one watch at 7:15 a.m. on a Friday morning while your child has tubes put in his ears?
Less than 20 minutes later the Dr. returned to the room and told me Colby did awesome! He gave me a few things to watch for as the day progressed and said Colby would return to the room shortly.
And, just like that I heard the cries in the hallway. You learn to recognize the cries of your little ones. And in came my groggy, cotton eared, puppy dog gowned baby.
The one who just minutes ago walked down the hall with a, “Bye Mom!” was back in my arms ready for some hugs and snuggles (and some McDonalds.)
We rested in the room for a minute and then headed back to the elevator ready for a treat from the golden arches. All before 9 a.m.!
Mornings like this are what makes the job of “Mom” unlike any other. It’s a job that forces you beyond comfort zone. It’s a job that makes you cling to the Lord and trust in His goodness, the ultimate Father. It’s a job that leaves you time and time again saying, “You got this God, help me to be still.” It’s a job that I wouldn’t trade for anything in this world.