On Getting Underway

By 23rd March 2018 No Comments

I was left standing the waiting room with a handful of my babies clothes and his dummy, my heart in my throat. Walking away was rubbish, watching four strangers crowd around my baby, looking so little on the giant adult sized bed, blue gloved hands busy attaching probes and doing medical things as Mikaere lay there unconscious as we were ushered out the door. Leaving was hard. Trusting them to do their jobs and their jobs well when my little guy was asleep on the table… difficult.

I was unprepared for the leaving part. We’d been waiting so long for this all to finally go ahead, that I was more focused on tee-ing everything up, half believing it would, again, be postponed that when it was go time, I was unprepared. But there you have it, after months and months of waiting my son was right this minute being put under and I was being gently  pulled out of the cubicle.

I wanted to cry when we left him and I almost caused a motherly fuss – my fear was overwhelming. (I don’t know exactly what I’d be fussing over, the right to stay? It doesn’t make any sense, because I know we’d never be able to stay. Emotions – not always logical).

There was a girl on the ward last night, while Mikaere fasted. She must be 18, young enough to be on the paediatric ward but old enough have a 1 year old of her own. She’s dislocated her jaw and has all the fear about the pain of having it reset in place. I overheard a lot of her fears and anger and confusion. Hours of it. She desperately wants to see her baby but can’t get over the fear of the pain that comes with having her jaw reset. And until it is, she can’t leave the hospital.

I’m not getting down on her, because I was there when they tried the first time and I heard how that went. But at the same time, I think the moral of the story is there is a choice. A short, sharp spike of pain and its done – no more pain, or a long drawn out pain while you wait and sit with your fears and fuss.

The main thing for me was how her fuss made things difficult for everyone else. For her family, for the nurses who were trying their very best to help her with her pain, the consultant who was on hand if she wanted to try. Us, and everyone else in the room who silently listened to her process all the things.

And as I sit in the waiting room for the first of this long drawn out waiting process of my own, I feel like it’s best to just get on with it. Waiting is rubbish and my fear of it all going twisty and wrong is high, but there is no point making a fuss. I don’t want to be like that girl on the ward going on and on, when I have the power to emotionally move myself forward.  So instead I sit quietly and write you guys a blog post.

Mikaere’s under the general anaesthetic and is having an MRI. Up next, gastrostomy. I can’t sit still and I keep repeating that Mikaere will be fine. He will be. And I wait for the MRI doors to open.

Leave a Reply