the same but different

Dear Em,
It was kind of weird going on vacation the week before you had surgery. On the one hand it kept my mind off what was ahead & we were glad you enjoyed a full week in the pool & ocean (after this surgery, you have to go a week without submerging your head in water). The thought of what was ahead would creep into my mind without warning, & I would struggle to push the thoughts to the back of my head & just enjoy the week. My mind just kept saying "something could go wrong...very wrong."

I tried to tell myself it wasn't a big deal. We had already gone through the process of getting tubes in your ears. Yes, this time it was a little more involved. This time your adenoids would also be removed, but everyone makes that procedure sound absolutely common. At least that's what I kept telling myself.

Our trip helped with one thing: sleep. We returned from our trip late the night before your procedure. Once I fell asleep that night, I slept soundly until waking up (which was probably 30 minutes later than I should have). I rushed around the house getting ready. You didn't even ask for food or drink. We had prepared you for not being able to have anything that morning. I told you that popsicles would be waiting for you at the end of your appointment, & you seemed just fine about it. I didn't have breakfast either. It was a solidarity thing. If you couldn't eat, I wouldn't eat either.

We were running late. Nonnie came with us this time, & she loaded you into the car while I speed brushed my teeth. We all got into the car & realized we had forgotten Lamby in the house. I literally sprinted into the house to get her & bring her back to you in the car. It was close, but we just made our appointment time. I checked in & filled out the needed paperwork. This time they gave you your hospital bracelet at check-in. I once again struck by the kindness of the staff at the ENT Center of Rhode Island. The receptionist gave you multiple pages of stickers to decorate your ID bracelet with. She never rushed you as you looked through each page of options, & it put a smile on your face to be able to decorate your bracelet with the decided upon pink heart stickers. Then the receptionist pointed us to the waiting rooms, letting us know that the Disney channel was on in one & channel 10 in the other (it really is the little things they do sometimes that make a big difference).

After we watched a few minutes of the Disney Channel your name was called, & we went back to the familiar room that was divided into sections with curtains. We were veterans of this place. I knew there they would get your vitals, we would change your clothes, & I would talk to the doctors before heading to the operating room. I think it started to seem familiar to you too. Just like last time, this is where you started to whimper. You refused to put on the hospital gown, hat, & socks. You had worked with us up until then, but this was the last straw for you. Asking you to take off your flowy & fashionable dress & replace it with a drab hospital gown (not even in one of your favorite colors), for you, it was just too much.

Maybe it was actually that you were understanding what was ahead too, but it was the clothing you refused. I told you the gown was to protect your clothes from getting popsicle on them later on. You didn't really budge. I showed you the clothing I would be putting on as well. You didn't care. I promised you we could watch Lilo & Stitch 2 (your new favorite movie), & you finally agreed (while whimpering) to put the new clothes on. The have portable DVD players & movies & TV shows for the kids to watch while waiting, & I had come prepared this time with a case of all your favorite movies. I was proud of myself. I had this.

The anesthesiologist came in to talk to us, & that's when it sunk in that this experience was going to be different than our last. He let me know that this time you would be under anesthesia for longer & would need an IV & breathing tube. I wasn't really prepared for that. You also had two surgeons instead of one (one of them repaired a slit in your left earlobe while the other put in tubes & removed adenoids), & I talked to them both. They told me this time it was going to take about an hour. An hour?! Last time it was barely fifteen minutes, & each second felt like a very painful eternity. How was I going to survive an hour?

You were checked out. You would look up when someone tried to talk to you, give them an evil eye, & go back to watching your movie. I felt like you were saying, "listen, I'm playing along. I'm wearing this awful outfit, but I don't have to like it." At least you were crying.

Then it was time. The same Lynne as last time came to escort us to the operating room. I didn't look at the sign on the door this time. I didn't need my knees to go weak when I saw it. When the doors opened, I found the chair next to the operating table, & already knew that chair was for me. I sat in the chair without being guided to it this time, & held you & Lamby in my lap. The doctor read off your name on your bracelet & the chart & announced what the procedures would be.

Then they brought out the mask. This time it didn't smell like cherries. It was over your face, but I could smell it in my nostrils & again feared I would pass out. I couldn't see your face, but I nuzzled my face into the back of your head & gave you kisses. We talked about your favorite songs & the RedSox. They told me your eyes were getting heavy, & I knew soon I would have to let you go. I helped them place you on the operating table, & they reminded me to give you one last kiss (it's really so kind that they do that).

I didn't realize I was crying until then. I felt the tears tumbling out of my eyes & tried to blink them back. The nurse who escorted me out turned to me and said, "You did a really great job. Did you see how calm she was through that whole experience? That was because of you & the fact you were able to keep it together & not fall apart in front of her. It's much harder for the kids when the parents fall apart. You did a really great job." I will always remember her kindness. I was ready to fall apart. I was ready to absolutely fall apart in helplessness. Those few kind words let me know that I had made a difference for you, & that made a big difference for me.

I walked quickly to find the bathroom, locked the door behind me, & let myself fall apart there. Just for a moment. Then I joined your Nonnie in the waiting room. She tried to distract me with magazines & pictures of home decor. I felt restless. It's true what they say about once you have a child, your heart forever lives outside your body. My heart was in the operating room. I kept turning my head to look for the face of your surgeons, jealous of the other parents who breathed a sigh of relief as their names were called. It did take the whole hour, but finally both surgeons had come out to talk to me. They both said everything had gone well. Now I just had to wait for them to call me to join you in recovery, & those moments of waiting dragged on the slowest. I knew you needed me & I needed you.

As we walked toward the double doors, I heard crying & coughing. I briefly thought, "that can't be Emma. She wasn't coughing or crying last time." It was in the recovery room that the reality of the difference between last time & this time set in. Your eyes were closed, but it was you crying & coughing & thrashing around. Your hand was wrapped up in bandages. Your face was swollen & red welts covered it. A nurse was holding your hands down to keep you from pulling at your ear. "What is wrong with her hand,"I asked in a panic referring to the bandage on it. "Oh, it's just a little blood from rubbing her nose," the nurse told me. It didn't really answer my question of why there was a bandage on it, but then I realized there was a IV coming out of it. I didn't know what to do. This was not how you looked the last time. I buried my face in your hair, blinked back tears, & told you I was there & I loved you. Still you thrashed around.

They told me I could hold you in a moment. They were waiting for a chair to open up for us to sit in, but I didn't need a chair. I scooped you up into my arms & you buried your cheek into my chest. You were mine, & you needed your Mommy. You cried & rubbed your nose into my chest. I sang you some of your favorite songs: Sweet Caroline, Brown Eyed Girl, & Hakuna Matata. A chair opened up, & they escorted us to it. I continued to sing to you & began to feel you calm in my arms. A nurse came by & asked me to keep doing exactly what I was doing. Soon you were sleeping in my arms.

That's when something totally unexpected happened. I started to feel myself black out. When I first felt the dizziness after looking at your stitches, I just tried to take deep breaths hoping it would go away. Then my vision started to go back. "Hey Mom, I'm going to pass out. Do you think you could ask someone for some apple juice?" My poor mom was already panicked from seeing you. I had told her you would be out of it, but I couldn't prepare her for how you looked. This was totally different from last time. My mom asked the nurse for some juice & thinking it was for you, the nurse asked us to wait a moment so she could check your vitals first.

Then the nurse looked at my face. I guess all the color had drained from it. All of a sudden I had everyone rushing around me. There were nurses getting me apple juice & cookies, lifting up my feet, checking my blood pressure & heart rate, & getting me a ice pack. I felt so ridiculous. They should have been rushing around you. I was so embarrassed & annoyed with my body. My blood pressure had dropped dangerously low, & a nurse monitored me until it went back up. "Did you eat breakfast this morning," one nurse asked me. I explained that I didn't feel right eating if you couldn't. The nurse shook her head at me. "That explains it. This happens to at least one mom every week. You have to eat. How can you be there for her if you don't?" So much for solidarity.

"Are you too warm with her in your arms," one of the nurses asked me. I started to panic. There was no way they were going to take you out of my arms. I would die before I let them do that. I told her I was fine & soon I was. Everything started to settle down. My blood pressure returned to a normal range, & you slept nuzzled into my chest. They all went back to monitoring you instead of me (except for your Nonnie who monitored us both...poor Nonnie).

This time it was procedure to spend an hour & a half in recovery instead of thirty minutes. When I first heard this, I thought it would be a waste of time. You bounced back so quickly last time. Within five minutes you were asking for posicles. I soon realized we would need every moment of the hour & a half this time around...maybe more. You snored as you slept in my arms, & rubbed your nose back & forth across my chest. I think you would have burrowed yourself inside of me if you could have. We asked you if you wanted a popsicle or juice & you shook your head. I asked you if you wanted to watch a movie, & you shook your head. When you finally agreed to a popsicle, you took only a couple bites before refusing it again.

As you slept in my arms we noticed more the burst blood vessels all over your face. Your face was so swollen, & you had what looked like raspberry birthmarks in a few spots surrounding your hair line. We were assured again & again that it was normal. You had been coughing fiercely right after the procedures & sometimes that will cause the blood vessels to burst. The swelling in your face they attributed to the IV that was still filling you with fluid. I worried over every little thing that looked out of place while we let you sleep in my arms for more than a half hour.

Before they would let you leave, you had to show us you could walk to the bathroom & go potty. This was a bigger challenge than I originally thought it would be. You didn't want to be anywhere except cuddled into my chest. Anytime we asked you to try, you whimpered & I didn't have the heart to force the matter. Thank goodness for the nurses at the ENT Center who are stronger than myself. One of them gently but firmly helped you out of my arms & put your feet on the floor. We held your hands as we walked you to the bathroom & let you go potty.

You perked up with the promise of Dels. Once we promised you that, you were ready to get dressed & leave You told all the nurses that you were going to get Dels when we left. You were happy to discard the hospital gown, & put your dress back on. After one final vital check, I held you in my arms & we walked out together.

We picked up your prescriptions from the pharmacy. You'll need ear drops twice a day, antibiotics twice a day, ointment for the stitches on your ear throughout the day, & tylenol for the pain. The recovery is more involved this time around, & you're clearly in more pain.

After some Dels for you & some food for Nonnie & I, we headed home. We put your favorite movie on in my room, & the three of us got into bed to watch it. I soon felt my eyelids get heavy. You, on the other hand, were ready to play & jump & climb & dance. And just like that, things felt normal again.

You're not completely recovered yet, but I can breathe a huge sigh of relief that the truly hard part (for you & for me) is over. As much as we are so very thankful for the kindness & superb care you we received at the ENT Center, I hope no one takes offense when I say I hope we never have to return. Let's hope the second time is the charm & we head into our future ear infection free.

I love you so,
Mommy

getting tubes...again

Dear Em,
It was what I had expected to hear. If I was being truly honest, it was even what we had wanted to hear. Still, when I heard it, it felt like a smack across the face.

"We gave it the old college try, but I think we need to consider tubes. It's time to also think about having the adenoids removed too."

The doctor said tubes & adenoids, but the only words I heard in my head were surgery & anesthesia.

This wasn't exactly new to us. After six ear infections & six round of antibiotics in six months, you had tubes put in last year (you can read about our experience here, here, & here). It was the most terrifying experience I've ever had to go through (My heart aches for the children & families of truly sick children...I can't imagine having to face the hospital & watching a child in pain everyday). It was also what was best for you. We knew it had been the right thing to do when after such a battle with ear infections & pain, you were yourself again. You were ear infection free, & you were our sweet little Emma again.

And then you weren't. The first ear infection started this past December. You suffered through Christmas & your birthday. You've had to be a warrior ever since. You've experienced 4 more ear infections since then (& I think you may have another right now). Worse than that, we've learned that your poor little ears have been clogged since at least December. We saw multiple doctors & tried allergy meds & nasal spray. The ear infections continued.

Which is what brought us back to the ENT to hear those words.

Today is the day you go to get get tubes & have your adenoids removed. I know it's the best thing & the right thing for you, but the right thing couldn't be more scary to me. I know I won't breathe...won't truly breathe...from the time I bring you into the operating room until the moment you're back in my arms. I'll be saying prayers for you & the operating team until the moment I know you're safe.

I love you so,
Mommy

and the award goes to...

Dear Em,
A couple weeks ago we left your 3 year well-visit. I called your daddy, & said "yeah, we are A-holes. We are totally the A-hole parents of the year." It's not often that I go around giving myself awards, but in this case I've earned it...for sure.

Let's start at the beginning. Actually, the sad part is I'm not really quite sure when the beginning started. It just seemed like the end of December was full of tantrums, scream like a ferile animal tantrums. Your daddy & I were perplexed & frantic. What was going on? Was it the hype & aniticipation of the holiday? Was it that I was traveling more? Were you trying to fit as much of the terrible twos in the last couple weeks of your two-ness, & petrifying us about the threes (afterall, it's also a "T" age)?

Christmas just isn't as fun when it's full of timeouts. We only put you in timeout once that day, but you probably should have spent a lot more time rocking it in there. There was toy throwing & screaming & crying & stomping. Daddy & I started to ask ourselves, "what happened to our child?" In the last 20 minutes of our flight to North Carolina, we may have thought about telling the plane full of angry travelers "this isn't our child."

It continued through the holidays & even soured moments of your birthday. In the midst of it all, resolutions were being made. I told your daddy that I was going to work at being more patient. He agreed he was going to try as well. Maybe it was the way we were handling it all? Days later, we confessed to each other that you were making our resolutions challenging.

We woke up one morning to another throw down tantrum. I think that time it was about putting on pants. Who knows. Daddy & I looked at you & asked, "why aren't you happy anymore? You used to be happy. What happened?" You looked at us, thoughtful. "Well, when I was a baby I cried a lot." You are obsessed with babies, & some regression had been going on over the past few months. Were you throwing tantrums so you could be more like a baby?

I scooped you up & snuggled you next to me. "Actually, Em, you were a really happy baby. Let me show you." We spent the next 30 minutes watching home videos of your first 6 months. We watched you giggle as you played with Daddy. We watched you beam with pride as you started to crawl. We watched you gurgle & babble to the baby in the mirror while you played in your gym. "So, what do you think? Could you be happy like you were when you were a baby again?" If only it was that easy.

We left later that morning to go to your three year well-visit. They used a machine I had never seen before to check if your ears were clear. Three times your right ear was reading funny, & we assumed it was malfunctioning. You have tubes in your ears, after all. The doctor checked himself just to be be sure. Uh Oh. It was one of the worst ear infections he's ever seen, with the tube in the right ear completely blocked.

We should have known. With so many ear infections, you start to see patterns. When you're in pain, you have trouble expressing yourself & the behaviors you had been exhibiting are typically what result. We had been told that if your ear got infected, we would see fluid draining from them, & we didn't.

But still. We should have known. Instead we were losing our patience & asking you why you were so whiny. It's our job to protect you from pain. Instead, we just got frustrated with you. To think of how long you suffered. Christmas. 4 flights. Your birthday. Poor, little girl. Seriously, A-hole parents of the year right here.

Once you started to take antibiotics, we could tell you were feeling better. Our sweet little Emma was back. Your daddy & I have also started to handle things differently. We're not perfect...we never will be, but hopefully we'll be better.

I love you so,
Mommy

getting tubes

Dear Em,
It feels so weird to let go of all of the stress we've been carrying around for months. You had 6 ear infections in 6 months. You've had constant fluid in your ears since September & your ears probably haven't popped since. You've had 6 rounds of oral antibiotics that have been so hard on your GI system. Your hearing is borderline "not good." We've seen your pediatrician 6 times & a specialist once. We've gotten the overlap of tylenol & motrin down to a science. As scared as I was for you to go under anesthesia & have tubes put in your ears, we all hope it will put an end to the constant pain you've been in.

Yesterday, my alarm went off at 6am. I laid in bed saying silent prayers for a little while before giving myself 20 minutes to get ready. I check your video monitor, & it broke my heart to see you sleeping so soundly, knowing I would have to wake you up. I plastered a smile on my face, opened your door, & whispered good morning. You turned & twisted & stretched in your cute little way. You had a sleepy, bewildered look & a cute little pout. I quietly pushed away the fear that if things went wrong, this could be the last time I watched you wake.

I scooped you up & told you that you were going to get to wear jammies all day. They had asked that we dress you in comfy clothes that didn't need to be pulled over your head. All I could think of was zip up footie jammies. You were excited when I told you to pick whatever pair you wanted. You chose a pink pair that was covered in cupcakes & were so excited to tell Daddy all about them when he came in to give you a kiss on the head.

You asked for a sippy & I felt like an awful person to tell you no. You weren't supposed to have anything to eat or drink from midnight on. You cried, probably hungry & thirsty, as I buckled you in the car. I wanted to sit down & cry myself. Instead, I got into my seat, took a deep breath, started the car, & asked you what kinds of cupcakes you had on your jammies.

We said our morning prayers & you talked about cupcakes for most of the ride to the ENT Center of Rhode Island. We had the choice between taking you to Hasboro Children's Hospital & the ENT Center for your procedure. The benefit of the ENT Center is they only do scheduled surgeries for the ear nose & throat. The hospital does all surgeries each day in order of importance. There was more of a chance we might get bumped if a more serious issue came in at the hospital. The ENT Center also had an earlier availability. So, we chose to take you there. I'm so glad we did. We've never been to Hasboro so I can't speak to any experiences there. Our experience at the ENT center was overwhelmingly positive. Each & every staff member was so kind & thoughtful & understanding. We were amongst many patients, but I felt like we were always treated as if you were the only one.

The only thing was that you didn't know where you were going. In between a cute discussion about cupcakes. You told me that we were going on a trip. That's when I told you we were going to see a doctor to help with your ears. You started to whimper. Seven doctors visits in 6 months will do that to you. I told you the doctor was going to help you to feel better & I would be with you the whole time. That's when you remembered reading books at our last appointment. You asked if we could read books. I told you "sure," & hoped there would be books. You were again happy & went back to talking about cupcakes.

We checked in, & I filled out some paperwork. They gave you an ID bracelet (similar to what we both wore in the hospital when you were born). Then we headed over to the waiting room. You were sad to see there were no books, but I had episodes of Super Why loaded onto my phone & you were happy to watch those. That's when I noticed all of the people in the waiting room. I noticed a woman with tears in her eyes come in & sit down. Minutes later, I saw the doctor come & tell her that the procedure was over & her child had done well. I watched the woman blink back tears & understood that I would be that woman soon. I don't know what you understood, but you had one eye on Super Why & the other eye watching the people in the waiting room.

We were called back to a room & a woman named Lynn weighed you, took your blood pressure, & recorded your heart rate. You were happy to participate. She was amazing with you. She noticed the stuffed animal you were holding & asked you it's name. You proudly held up your Lamby. She made Lamby his own ID bracelet so he could have one just like you.

We walked across the hall to another room. It was a large room with a number of areas divided by curtains. In each smaller area there were two chairs. We took off your jammies & put on a hospital gown, a hat to hold back your hair, & cute little socks. I put on a hospital gown over my clothes, covers for my shoes, & a hat for my hair. Even in the stress of it all you looked so cute, I had to take a picture. When Lynn came back, she suggested getting a picture of the two of us.

After that it was time to wait. We could see families waiting in the similar small areas in front of us & to the side of us. I suggested we watch some more Super Why. You watched for a moment, but I think this is when you realized it wasn't a regular doctor appointment. Maybe it was the fear you could see in the other parents' eyes. Maybe you could see the fear in my eyes. You wanted out of the hospital gown, out of the socks, & off with the hat. You wanted me & you wanted to go home. You asked me so many times to go home, it broke my heart.

I just tried to smile & soothe you. I held you close in my arms. I bounced you. I sang to you. Another woman came by & brought a DVD player playing a princess Barbie movie. It drew you in for a few minutes at a time, but still you just wanted out of there. You cried most of the time the anesthesiologist talked to me & again when your doctor came by to ask if I had any questions.

Then I was greeted by a smiling & familiar face. Another Lynn whose husband I work with. I told you she was an angel who had come to help you through everything. She & another woman led us to another room. I felt my knees go weak when I read the name plate next to the room we were walking into, operating room one. They opened the doors & there stood a large hospital bed covered in white sheets. There were all kinds of gadgets & monitors along the wall. I think I forgot it was my role to be the mom & put on a strong front at that point. I couldn't think of anything other than the fact I was carrying my little love into "operating room one." I stood there holding you, probably looking weak & bewildered & scared. 

Thank God for the amazing people who work at the ENT center. They pretty much held onto my shoulders & guided me into the chair next to the bed. They had big smiles on their faces & asked you who you were holding. We told them he was your Lamby & showed them his ID bracelet. This happened while the doctor walked in & they rechecked your ID bracelet & repeated what the procedure was going to be.

Then they did the sweetest thing. They gave you a mask to give to Lamby. You held it over his little nose & then they took out the mask that would give you your anaesthesia. They asked you if you liked cherry & told you the mask smelled like cherries. You were calm while they held the mask to your face & talked to you about what your favorite color was.

I almost held my breath, afraid that if I breathed any of the cherry smell in, I would pass out. I turned my head to the side with my cheek pressed against the back of your head & gave you a million kisses. When they started to take you from my arms & put you on the large table, I had a hard time letting go. Your little eyes weren't even closed. I was ready to bolt myself to the chair by your side, but they instructed me to give you a kiss & ushered me out the door & to the waiting room. The woman ushering me was so kind. She just kept saying I did a great job.

I couldn't get away from her fast enough. I didn't feel like I did a great job. I felt like I barely kept it together. There was a burning fear in my chest. I practically ran past the waiting room & into the bathroom.

That was when & where I lost it. I broke down. Not the pretty kind of crying. It was the ugly kind of sobbing that you can only do when you feel helpless & worried that you might lose what you love most in the world. I gave myself just a moment, prayed harder than I've ever prayed, wiped my face off, & left the bathroom. I texted your Daddy that you were in the operating room & I was waiting. He called me immediately to ask how the morning had gone, & I heard the shakiness in my voice as I told him about the previous hour. I promised him I would let him know as soon as you were out.

No sooner had I sat in the waiting room & read the same paragraph on my kindle 4 times when your doctor came out to say the procedure was done. I felt a huge weight leave my shoulders. I had probably only left you in the operating room ten minutes before, but those were ten of the longest minutes of my life. Your doctor told me the procedure had gone well & you were headed to the recovery room. She gave me a bunch of instructions about your care going forward that I immediately forgot. All I could think about was that you were ok & how much I wanted to hold you (luckily they had all of the instructions written out & ready to give to me later).

A woman came out & called for "Emma's family." She told me you were in recovery, just waking up. As we walked over to recovery, there were a few beds. I franticly searched for yours. I had to get to you & kiss you & tell you how amazing you are. I found you just as the woman started chuckling that we could see your pig tails sticking out over the bed rails.

They told me I could pick you up, & I don't think I've ever scooped you up so quick. You were drowsy & confused & clung to me with little whimpers. Someone wrapped a blanket over you & led us to a reclining chair. As we sat together, I gave you a million kisses. I thanked God for being with you (& with me) & for that very moment.

They offered you a popsicle. The nurse who offered it to you said she had heard you like pink & made sure she had a pink one for you. She actually apologized to me that it was a little on the red side. All I could think of was "how does she know Em's favorite color?" I was so thankful & overwhelmed by her amazing kindness. Even though you were still in a groggy state, you grabbed the popsicle from my hand, told me you wanted to do it yourself, & hungrily ate (you hadn't had anything since 6pm the previous night). Once you were done, you asked for some juice. That was when I heard it, our song. "Just The Way You Are" (I talked about it in this post) was softly playing on the overhead speakers. I hugged you in close thinking how many more times we would be able to sing that song together.

Then we had a ten minute conversation about popsicles. You whimpered as you asked me if you could go home & have a red popsicle. You sighed in contentment when I told you "of course." Ten seconds later you asked me, as if for the first time, if you could go home & have a red popsicle. The little boy recovering next to you refused to eat or drink anything. You, on the other hand, had 2 popsicles & 2 glasses of juice before they told us we could go home (that's my girl!).

On our way home, you were strangely quiet, still, & staring. I called your name a few times just to make sure you were conscious & breathing. You shot me an annoyed look after the second time & gave me a mere grunt that said, "just let me be" in response. We dropped off your prescription & headed to the grocery store to pick up popsicles while we waited for your prescription to be filled (the prescription was for antibiotic ear drops, otherwise they said to take tylenol as needed if you were in pain). Then we headed to Dunkin Donuts to get a donut for you & a bagel & tea for me (I had also gone without food figuring it wasn't fair to eat if you couldn't). You took only one bite of your donut (which is typically your favorite) & left the rest for me. All you wanted was popsicles.

Once we were home, you ate 2 more popsicles & started to seem more like yourself again. You watched Super Why while you cared for your baby dolls before taking almost a 4 hour nap. Your sweet best friend S came by with her Mommy & baby brother to drop off a Get Well Card & gift. It made my heart so happy to watch the two of you play together (even if you were a little crankier than usual).

Daddy made cupcakes for us all to end our long day. We used Cool Whip instead of frosting & topped it with a cherry for you. In your cute cupcake jammies, you ate your "favorite" cherry cupcake that you had talked about that morning.

Still smiling, even after the longest day.

Watching you sleep soundly on your video monitor last night was the sweetest thing. It meant we made it through the day & it meant you weren't in any pain. I was finally able to let it all go & relax.

Em, I am so amazed by you. Your strength & resilience at the young age of 2 is awe inspiring. You've been through so much & I couldn't be prouder of how you've handled the past 6 months. It was a long road, & I'm glad we all made it through it. I'm hoping being on the other side of tubes in your ears comes with so much less pain & frustration for you.

I love you so,

Mommy

* Readers, thank you so much for your prayer, kind words, & well wishes. We've all be surrounded by so much support the past 6 months, especially the last month. Words cannot express how much your kindness has touched us all *

you have tubes

Dear Em,
Your tubes are in. The procedure went well. You did great. So, great. Holding you in my arms while you woke up, all groggy with anesthesia, couldn't have been sweeter.

I'll talk a little bit about the experience in my next post. For now, I'll just leave you with our conversation on the way to the ENT Center this morning.

Em: "Mommy, cherry cupcakes are my favorite." They asked us to dress you in something comfortable but not something that had to be pulled over the head. So, we picked your pink footie pajamas with different kinds of cupcakes covering them.

Me: "Oh yeah?"

Em: "Yes! So, I will have a cherry cupcake & Daddy can have a green cupcake. But you can have a cherry cupcake too."

Me: "Thanks, Em. You're the best. Hey, can we say our prayers for today?"

Em: "Ok."

Me: "God, help us to have a great day."

Em: "God, help us to have a great day."

Me: "Watch over me & keep me safe."

Em: "Watch over you, & keep you safe."

Me: "No, Em. Watch over you & keep you safe."

Em: "Keep me safe."

Me: "God, help me to feel better soon."

Em: "Help you feel better soon."

Me: "No, Em. Help you feel better soon."

Em: "Help me feel better soon....but Mom, we can't eat these cupcakes. They're on my jammies, & we can't eat my jammies. That'd be silly."

Me (with a smile in my heart): "Yes, yes that would Em."

I love you so,
Mommy