I wish I could follow up the surgery story with sunshine and rainbows. I wish I could tell you that the day following the surgery and the week that followed were a piece of cake. That this was as easy as pie and we ate cupcakes and had a family sing along.

I wish I could say that. I wish.

The recovery from surgery was flat out awful. Nothing fun. Nothing easy. Coming off anesthesia was rough. He was angry and confused and in pain. He had wires and IVs and monitors all over him. He had this plastic straw like thing coming out his nose. Stitches in his lip and mouth and tape covering all of it. He had arm restraints called no-nos (that should have a much stronger name to fully capture the torture like devices that they are.)

I remember the first time I saw him on the bed in the recovery room I was scared. Terrified actually. His face was swollen and he cried this moaning like cry that scared me. He smelled like iodine and blood and he was so miserable. The nurse had to hand him to me because I was too afraid to pick him up.

The first 24 hours were the worst. He was mad and hungry and tired. Couple that with not being able to relax enough to sleep, fighting against the arm restraints and trying to kick off monitors and IVs, and flat out rejecting the syringe thingy he had to eat out of and it was in a word: AWFUL. I think I cried 14 times. We also discovered our little corner room was the only one with just one chair to sleep in (the other had a couch and chair) and the cot we were promised never happened so poor Michael had to sleep on the tile floor. So lets just say minus the amazing chicken caesar wrap I had from the cafe downstairs, our stay at Children’s was not my favorite day.

But as hard as it was it was just that: one day. I know you have gotten to know me by now and have picked up on the fact that I am a bit of a drama queen whiner. And let me tell you the Lord heard lots of fits from me that day. But then just like that it was the next day. Baby resident (the toddler with a white coat who was “old enough to practicing medicine”) came by and checked on him. Dr. Smith came and saw him. And just like that the lady with the clip board came and kindly asked me for all my money. Sorry about college Shane, but your smile will be amazing. Anyways we blinked a few times and they were sending us home.

Home was a tiny bit smoother. Still not a fun filled adventure, but not as awful as the hospital. I mean Michael didn’t have to sleep on tile, but we were not out of the woods yet.

The next week was hard because of two things.

1. No-nos. Like I said, that is not a strong enough name. We had to watch him at all times because he would thrash and wiggle and try to get the arm immobilizers off. He was 3 months old and loved to suck on his hands. And he had this tube up his nose and he wanted to scratch/remove. He also did this adorable thing where he would rub his face on his arms to go to sleep. Well that was out.

 

 

2. The dreaded syringe. This wasn’t a normal plastic medicine syringe. It had this long soft rubber hose coming out of it. This is how he had to eat and he hated it. He would cough and gag and spit. He totally rejected it and would cry out of frustration every time. We would have to sit there and put formula in his mouth and pray with each squirt (which might of held 5 mL) that he would swallow it. He fought this at every feeding the entire week. It took us 30-45 minutes to get him to eat every time. it was exhausting for all of us.

 

 

But just like that first day went on, the week went on. Our big kids were champs. I think we watched the Curious George 2 movie and George 3 around 684 times each that week. But they were so wonderful and helpful. I’ll remember that one day when they are teenagers.

And then in the midst of all this mess. The frustration and tears and anger God did it again. He showed up. He showed up big time. As if wrapping his arms around me in the waiting room was not enough. As if helping us get through the first day of recovery was not enough. If us qualifying for a grant from this amazing foundation that completely covered the surgeons fees in full wasn’t enough. He showed up and showed me again who He is. How He doesn’t just care for us and love us a little. That he doesn’t just provide for some of our needs. But that he provides for OUR EVERY NEED. EVERY SINGLE NEED.

You see through out all of this my mama heart was still grieving the
 loss. The loss of that wide gap smile that was gone forever. And then it happened. 5 days after the surgery things were getting better. He was not as annoyed with the arm restraints and his swelling had gone down. The tape finally fell off and we could see a sweet pink line of healing. And then he smiled. He smiled a fully restored fully attached smile. And I lost it. My mama heart leaped and I remember just crying and saying over and over again “your smile. Its so beautiful. Its just so beautiful.” I thought it would take awhile. I figured it would be weeks before the stitches dissolved and we could see healing. But then day 5 we took him out of the bath tub and that clear tape fell off and there it was right in front of me. A Perfect lip. A perfect smile. Healing. Restored. Whole. It was unbelievable. But then again that is our God. Constantly amazing me and showing me His ways are not my ways. His plans are not my plans. His power is not my power. And my tiny little human brain cannot even fathom the things He can do. All of that shown so brightly in a 3 month old boy’s brand new smile.

“And my God will supply every need of your according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:19

“But truly God has listened; he has attended to the voice of my prayer.” Psalm 66:19