Ireland's First Surgery

Yesterday Ireland went in for her first surgery - ear tubes.  Since February Ireland has had her left ear rupture two times. A week after the last rupture both ears were filled up with fluid yet again - while we were sparred another infection or rupture - it was determined that ear tubes would be best. We do not know how often her ears are filled with fluid and did not want her speech and/or hearing development to be affected.

I was 'looking forward' to the surgery - in so much that I was keeping focused on the outcome, the benefits. I was not looking forward to the fact that we could not feed Ireland after 12am. She is known for wanting a snack between 4am - 6am and I was worried how I would keep her 'happy' until 7:15am. I managed to give her a dream bottle at 11pm - something I haven't done since she was just a wee one.

Ireland slept until 6ish and cried just a bit, I was so happy! We got to the surgery center, bagels in hand for us and I wanted to eat it so bad, but I just couldn't eat it front of Ireland. Poor little thing. She was in great spirits before the surgery, playing in the waiting room and was full of her signature giggles.

We were called back and met with the nurses to get her weighed and such - and then we met the anesthesiologist.  It was at that point that I freaked a little inside. I'm not one to think too much about the 'what ifs' of anesthesia, but of course now its different. The thought of my perfect little baby getting a mask of anesthesia put over her little face saddened me so much, it hurt my heart. Would she be scared? I wondered what it would feel like to be her, so tiny in her cute little fishy onesie - all alone one the surgery table surrounded by unfamiliar faces? I just felt sad for her. Finally our wonderful ENT came out to greet us, in his scrubs and he is such a peaceful, easy going man, he helped me put at ease. Finally, it was time to go.

As we walked out to the waiting room, we saw Ireland get carried away by a gentle nurse. It was torture to see my little baby girl getting carried into surgery while I was just watched her turn a corner and she was gone. I know this isn't brain surgery and I do not mean to liken it to such. But it doesn't matter what the procedure is. It's scary. Its my child, my tiny infant child, everything about her is a big deal to me.

True to the doctors word, we heard Ireland screaming about 15 minutes later. We went back to recovery there was a restless little Ireland - not awake, but as vocal as I remember her being the minute they took her out of my belly for the c-section - girlfriend has some strong lungs! We swaddled her, fed her and gave her Tylenol and rocked her for 30 minutes. We were granted persmission to go - no sooner were we in the car that she calmed down and slept for a few hours.

Ireland took naps on and off yesterday. In between her naps she would play hard and laugh like she still had a buzz. She was too cute and back to herself in no-time.

I am  very thankful she was had a successful surgery without any adverse reactions to anesthesia. God certainly is good.

Hanging on...one pump at a time

Here I am. June 6th. So close to Ireland's first birthday in terms of nursing, but not quite there. After almost 11 months of nursing, my body is giving out on me. The milk I produce at one time is quickly diminishing, I do not make enough milk to feed my daughter daily. But, I hang on, one pump at a time.

Why? Because I am addicted to my daughter and I just can't stop. Pumping through out the day gives me the ability to nurse her each morning. For the past month as my body gives out, I pump on! I enjoy each nursing session as if its our last - knowing that soon it WILL be our last. I stare at her beautiful face. I look down in awe that my body has sustained hers for nearly 11 months. I feel pride that I did not give up each time I thought I could find something better to do with my time. I have spent countless HOURS tied to my desk while pumping. I have pumped in cars, bathrooms, and at the beach. I have pumped in the Target cafe under an 'udder cover'.  I have pumped in airport bathrooms and carried a big hospital grade pump (huge) and frozen bags of milk through TSA lines and connecting flights. I have nursed in all these places. I have sustained my child.

I never thought I would nurse. Now, I struggle with the reality that soon I will not be able to nurse. It will be a thing memory of my past, my first lesson in 'letting go' I have to face as a mother. My eyes fill with tears but my heart is full. I am proud of me. I am proud of Ireland. I am proud of us. So far, we've been a great team together. I love you, baby girl!