Monday, July 22, 2013

After the Adventure: Our Frenectomy Story

It's done. Praise God, it's done.

I can stop obsessing, clenching and unclenching my hands, squeezing the breath out of Tom, tearing up with anxiety.

Time to sit back, wait, and hope that this is the start of something better, but even if it isn't- we came out the other side, and we're okay.


After racing around like madpeople this morning, trying to get out the door, dropping Abby off at Mima and Granda's, and managing a poopsplosion and toddler meltdown on the road, we made it to Dr. Marcus's Reisterstown office at 11:00 on the dot.

Dr. Marcus was kind and welcoming, even friendlier than his Disney-themed waiting room and decidedly kid-themed exam room implied. He took time to get to know the kids as I furiously worked to fill out paperwork, and before I knew it, Michael was in the chair. Both Michael and Mia were revealed to have a bit of tongue-tethering, but had sufficient range of motion that our concern fell only to their lip ties. This was a huge relief right out of the gate, since it meant just one procedure for each child, rather than two.

Michael did well for the initial exam, which took place in the comfort of Tom's lap, but predictably began to squirm once removed from his father's arms. I knew that his piercing screams as the laser began its work likely came from a place of frustration rather than pain, but they were still heart-wrenching to experience. However, the procedure was blessedly brief, though it felt akin to an eternity in the moment, as I massaged one hand and Tom massaged his legs, and he cried, and writhed, and likely willed with all of his being for it to be over.

Mia's felt quicker (probably was, since she squirmed less and had slightly less of an attachment to release), but was much more intense of an experience for me. While I could feel Michael responding to me, even in the midst of his distress, Mia was so caught up in her wailing that I wondered if she even knew I was there beside her.

Regardless, this was the view just minutes after, and I knew without a doubt at that point that it really was all going to be okay.

If I had any lingering doubts, those were later pushed aside as I looked down upon a peacefully sleeping Mia in her K'tan wrap, and across the table from me at a cheerful Michael, distractedly stuffing his face with Chick-Fil-A fries, courtesy of the coupon he received with his Certificate of Bravery and brand-new toothbrush.

Abby, in the meantime, was having a blast with Mima, messing around in empty baskets as laundry was being folded, and taking time out to chill and listen to some music.

We made it back to Mima and Granda's with minimal screaming (Mia held off on waking up and lodging her complaints until we were a mile or so from our destination), where Michael immediately got up to his usual mischief...

... Mia cooed and chirped with pleasure at being released from her prison-chair...

... and Abby awoke from her nap delighted to find that so many of us had suddenly joined her (but she didn't let that keep her from quickly becoming engrossed in her rarely-seen toys and books).

Despite all of the travel, and disruption of routines, it's been a really, really good day. And though it's far too soon to be tallying victories just yet, here are some little miracles I've witnessed today:
  • Michael did astoundingly well all day despite the time spent on the road and the loss of any real nap time outside of his car seat.
  • He's had a bit more bleeding than Mia (likely from a combination of the fact that he keeps touching the wound and he had a bit more skin removed), but Michael does not appear to be in pain, and is suffering no greater discomfort than what appears to be a bit of itchiness with healing.
  • Her reluctance was understandable at first, but Mia was able to nurse immediately after, and has repeated the performance, with increased confidence, several more times today.
  • Mia has been freely passing gas all day, and not once since this morning have I had to pump her legs or press them to her belly to help her do so.
  • We've gotten two impressive diapers out of Mia today (when we're usually lucky to get even one), both of which were a much healthier color than I've seen in a long while.
  • Though she's not naturally flanging out her upper lip just yet, Mia seems already to be getting a much stronger, deeper latch, and I am feeling less like I'm being gummed with each feeding.
  • A three-hour nap was had between 6:30 and 9:30, likely because it was the first "real" one Mia was able to obtain, followed by a full hour of contentment in the swing, which led to (drumroll, please, because this is the first time since she was teeny-tiny) full-on slumber. That, my friends, is how I was able to manage a blog post tonight at all, as she is sleeping there still.
I will let the future make of all of these observations what it will. For now, I am relieved, overjoyed, ecstatic, happy-beyond-words that nothing went wrong and my babies are healthy, happy, and well. That's more than enough for tonight, I think.