Yesterday Miss H and Mr. B had their tonsils and adenoids removed.
I was prepared. I knew it would be hard for them. They’d be in pain. Days 3&4 are supposed to be the worst.
I got less sleep last night than I do with a newborn.
But I wasn’t prepared for the emotional toll of watching my sweet babies come out of anesthesia while being in pain.
B sobbed his throat hurt. His head hurt so bad he said he was dying.
I had to hold back the tears that wanted to flow vehemently.
My own mom stood on the other side of his bed. I could tell she wanted to cry too.
I wanted her to make it better. Because that’s what moms do. It was in that moment that I realized how helpless moms really are, and yet how strong they seem to their offspring.
Because I was playing both roles in that moment.
I was Momma. Fixer of the pain. And I’d have taken all that pain he was feeling into myself without a second thought if it had been possible.
I was all too aware of how utterly helpless I was. I could love him. Cuddle him. Reassure him. Offer him popsicles galore.
But I could not in fact fix it.
I was also the child. My mom was there and in those moments I needed her to be stronger and tougher and a better “fixer” than I, so that I could be those things to my own babies.
The many roles we play in life is fascinating.
Once B was through the initial brunt of it, he was a rockstar. Within 45mins you’d have never known he’d been so skillfully sliced and diced.
And when my sweet girl was through surgery.
Oh, the heartstrings.
She kept pulling at me, wanting me with her. I had the nurse put the bed rail down and I cuddled into bed with her, offering ice chips and getting the meds into her.
She was groggy and tired, sleeping off and on most of the day.
They’re not through it all yet though. They still have two weeks of recovery. But they’ve been amazing troopers. I really cannot rave about how great they’ve done.
They hurt. They’re tired. But they’re managing.
And we’ve been so fortunate to have great family and friends.
One of my closest friends and M’s godmomma bought H and B each a kindle fire to get them through this, and although it’s much too generous a gift, they’ve been too busy with them to mind the pain too much, so she knew what she was doing for sure. She also fed us dinner and breakfast. How loved we are.
I was prepared for the physical pain my kids would experience, but oh! A momma can never be prepared for the heartache of watching her babes suffer, even mildly.