Surgery Day

During the morning of the surgery, at 4:00 AM, I was no longer allowed to nurse Elizabeth, as she needed to fast before her surgery. I predicted this would be very hard, so I stressed and cried during each feeding prior to 4 AM. But the first time she awoke for a feeding after 4:00, she actually took a pacifier quite well and fell back asleep. Still, I felt guilty in doing it. My heart broke because I couldn’t feed her. I don’t even remember now how many more times I went through that. I didn’t sleep well all night, and I was very tired by the morning. Remember, I was still very much in pain and not able to take a single step without the walker, could barely roll over without help, and couldn’t even lift my legs up onto the bed by myself. Thankfully Dave stayed in the hospital with us for my sake.

Side note: Another thing to be thankful for was the many friends who stepped in to help with the kids left at home. On the first night, Artzens brought a meal, Regina was with Rebecca my sister, Kostick’s took Isaiah, Dominic and Jeremiah. Clare, Ben, Maggie and William stayed here with Mark Meuer who stayed overnight with them. On the second night, Father Corey came to visit, so did Mel Larsen who also brought food, and Suzanne Peach took all my kids but William and Ben. William would have done better in his own home anyway. And Ben was grateful for the other kids to be out of the house.

Back to the morning of the surgery:

At some time in the morning, I don’t even remember when now, the nurse came in to take us downstairs. I started praying (and crying) as Dave and I took our daughter down to surgery. We met with the anesthesiologist and with the doctor. Dr. Feltiz was very kind and understanding. He knew I was concerned with Elizabeth’s young age, and he told us that he’d performed surgery on even smaller babies. Just the day before he’d operated on a baby less than a pound. Eventually handed over Elizabeth to the nurse who would take her to the surgery. Then I broke down and bawled. Dave and I cried together. I don’t like reliving this again even as I write it weeks after the fact.

We moved to a less private waiting room with other families who’s children were in surgery too. They all seems so calm and collected, nonchalant even. I couldn’t stop crying, Dave went to find food for us, and to call people for prayers. He dealt with his stress by occupying his mind on the phone. After my kleenex pile was embarrassingly large and I had not the ability to bring it to a garbage can, I apologized to the young woman closest to me. She asked me about my child’s surgery. I told her what it was and how Elizabeth was only 3 days old! She replied that her child’s first surgery was at 3 days old too, and that she was a total mess as well. She was now at her child’s 3rd surgery, he was 3 months old. She soon left and a new family took her place. Dave was still not back, so I fumbled my way from my wheelchair to the waiting room couch. The man near me asked if I needed help. I thanked him, but said I could make it, but that it would be helpful if he would read the tv screen which said when Elizabeth would be in surgery since I couldn’t see it from where I sat. The children’s names are not on the screen, they are listed by birthdate. I told him to look for 12-20. “Three days old?” he asked. I replied, “yes,” and teared up again. He looked at me with such compassion and said that his daughter had her first surgery at three days old too. She’s now 12 and has had many surgeries. My heavenly Father sure knew who to bring near me that day - two other people who had been through my exact sorrow. They were both a comfort to me that day. Visiting with them helped the time go by fast, and soon the doctor was in to tell me that he was done. Dave was STILL gone, so I talked with the doctor alone. But it was good news. She did wonderful in surgery, and of the 5 scenarios, her’s was the best. She had her bladder caught up in the muscles of the umbilical cord, and a little bit of vein and artery too. He tied them off and put everything in place and sewed her a bellybutton. Dave came in minutes later, and I told him the news. I cried with relief of course, and I was happy that Dave was back. Soon a nurse came to direct us into the hall to retrieve Elizabeth. A nurse put her in my arms and I kissed and kissed her. The trip back upstairs is a blur, I probably don’t remember it because I had so many tears in my eyes and saw nothing but my baby!

For the rest of the day and into some of the evening, Elizabeth was very groggy as the anesthetic wore off. By the evening she was nursing again and looking more like herself. We were told she would be going home in the morning. I was glad to hear that, as the doctors said that if she developed an infection from the surgery she could be in the hospital until Christmas day. Mom and Dad were coming in to town that night, they arrived and only Ben and William were there. The rest of the kids were still at the Peach’s for a couple more hours. The next morning we were told Elizabeth could go home. Actually, because hospitals never do anything quickly, it was more like 3:00 when we were released. Dave packed up all our stuff and brought it out to the car first while I waited in the room with baby. At that moment, all the stress from the past 3 days came out again. I cried and cried and cried. A mother’s love is indescribable, and the pain of seeing my child go though surgery is agonizing. I’m so glad it’s over. I hope Elizabeth knows how much we love her and how this broke our heart to see her go through it.