A little over a year ago we found out my little one could barely hear, and one year ago tomorrow, my little one had surgery.
I can still picture every minute of that day in my mind like it was yesterday – waking up at 5am, purposely wearing the same tank top and sweatshirt I wore the day I gave birth to her, not being able to give her anything to eat or drink, driving to the hospital before the sun came up, changing her into just a diaper and the little yellow gown that buttoned up the back, listening to the girl in the bed next to us crying her eyes out because she was scared.
Me rocking my little one in a rocking chair by the window while Scott signed a bunch of paperwork. Them giving her the liquid sedative and me feeling her little body slowly going limp in my arms. The nurse calling us to another room full of other patients lying in wheeled beds waiting their turn. Her laughing a crazy silly laugh as the sedative kicked in even more until her eyes rolled back. Me hating every minute of looking into my baby’s vacant stare and holding her head in my hand because she couldn’t hold it up on her own. A nurse walking by noticing my sedated baby and making some stupid comment about how I probably wished she was this calm all the time and me wanting nothing more than to scream NO at her, about how much I would give to never ever see her like this again. Them calling our last name and taking Summer from my arms and out of the room, me immediately feeling the tears pooling in my eyes because my arms felt so empty and I was left there feeling completely helpless.
10 minutes later them rushing her in, putting her on the bed in front of me, one of the nurses yelling, “quick, she’s waking up!” Them putting the oxygen on her and her cries getting louder and louder, her disheveled screaming cry a side effect they warned us about. Dr. Chen coming out to tell us that everything was textbook smooth, that she did great. Her laying in my arms covered in a blanket while I held the oxygen tube close to her face so she could breathe it in in-between her cries. Us going back to the original room and her scarfing down 2 popsicles that dripped all over her yellow gown, stains that are still there today on the gown hanging in her closet as a reminder of how far we’ve come.
The drive home (picture below) where Scott asked me a question and she answered, something she had never done because she couldn’t hear us before. Getting home, Scott going to work, and me putting my baby to bed, her sleeping for 4 hours, then waking up happy like the entire morning hadn’t just happened. She and I sitting on her bed and her looking at me with wide eyes when she could hear the doggie scratching her own neck, a sound my lovey didn’t recognize because it was the first time she actually heard it at 1.5 years old.
Me telling her now how lucky she is to have magic ears, and knowing that despite the scariness of it all, we had changed my baby’s entire future on that one scary, beautiful February morning.