Sorry to go all silent on you. After a great weekend with friends and a laid back Father’s Day, we entered one of our toughest weeks as parents yet, Oskar’s surgery. We knew for a while that he would most likely have surgery for a relatively common issue boys run into. I debated writing about it, since it’s quite personal. And I picture having a teenage boy one day being super pissed at me. But, let’s be honest… there aren’t that many of you reading, he won’t be that age for a long time, blogs will probably be replaced with like drone delivered holographic vlogs or some shit, and if by some chance this still exists a decade from now and he isn’t comfortable sharing – I’ll delete it. Sorry Oskar, here’s the story…
When Oskar was born he had undescended testicles. Apparently an extremely common thing for premature babies, but this boy was no premmie, he was almost 3 weeks late and just under 10 lbs. So a little less common for his case. Since they hadn’t decended by 6 months it was confirmed he would have to undergo surgery to repair them and the (more than likely) associated hernias.
As surgery day approached I found myself having a major internal struggle between being terrified and confident. And then feeling bad for feeling scared about something that is minor compared to other terrible, much scarier situations. Anytime I would travel down the path of letting myself feel the fear, another part of myself would play the “it could be worse” game. I would think about the children with major illnesses, that would have to go through huge scary operations.
Finally after nearly driving myself insane I came to the conclusion that, yes, it could be worse, and I am extremely thankful that it is not. I am grateful everyday for this happy healthy baby boy. But it is OK for me to be scared. Passing your 9 month old off to a team of people you barely know so they can put him to sleep and perform surgery, of any kind, is frightening. And I shouldn’t feel bad about that and don’t need to remind myself of how it could be worse. This enabled me to acknowledge the fear I had and bring on the confidence I needed to be strong for my little dude so he didn’t feed off that energy.
We sat in the children’s hospital at U of M (which is an amazing hospital, by the way) for what seemed like forever and about 5 hours later we were reunited with our little man. Everything had went well, aside from an issue when removing the breathing tube, which they assured me is “totally normal.” He was still asleep when we went back to recovery, a very strange experience to see him like that. Soon enough he woke up and was ready to nurse and go home. We spent the rest of the day in bed sleeping and nursing. Reminded me of our early days.
Now it’s a little over a week since surgery and this kid is almost completely healed. Their tiny bodies are so amazing and capable of such big things. Yay Oskar!