Monday, July 11, 2011

It Gets Worse

I thought the fear of losing my baby during pregnancy was bad, but the idea of losing him now is terrifying. CM (husband) is also fighting fears - specifically that our son will suffer some kind of brain damage during the operation and no longer be "himself".

He goes in to hospital tomorrow to have an inguinal hernia repaired. I know that it's a relatively minor operation. I know that anaesthesia is a very specialised and skilled area these days. I know that he is going to be in one of the best children's hospitals in the country. But our years of miscarriages have taught me that statistics only apply to other people, not to ourselves, and that things do go wrong even when you look like you're heading for a slam dunk.

He is turning into the most amazing little person. He is on solids now - wolfing down various gloopy purees (mango is the hands-down favourite so far). He will go to sleep in his own cot within 10-15 minutes of being put down - as long as I'm lying on the bed next to it holding his hand through the bars (this is progress from at least an hour of holding, rocking, walking, shushing and false starts as he wakes just as his head touches the sheet!). He is much happier during the day while we're out - instead of holding a screaming baby as I try to stuff a sandwich down my throat and carry on half a conversation with friends, he now sits in his buggy or a high chair and plays with his Sophie or firefly or "chats" to me and I eat with both hands and manage to have at least three quarters of a conversation. He loves playing at home - he wriggles about in his gym, occasionally rolling onto his tummy and back again, today pushing himself backwards with his feet towards a toy . He enjoys books - chewing the cloth books we have and having a story at bedtime (he likes rhyming stories best and ones with brightly coloured illustrations). He adores singing - listening to me or CM or the radio or iT.unes (and sometimes joining in himself - very funny!). He is a little TV addict - he only gets to watch a bit of CB.eebies but particularly loves some of the characters on "In the Gar.den" (he goes mad when comes on!).

In short, he is already a wee individual and one we love more than anyone or anything on this planet. Losing him or seeing him diminished would be the end of us, so if you're of the praying persuasion, say a little one for him tomorrow that our cursed odds don't extend to him.

1 comment:

Rebecca said...

Thinking of you and CM and your son. I hope the operation went totally smoothly and you're feeling a sense of relief.

I can only imagine how stressful that would be. I tell R that (assuming we ever have success), I want at least 3 kids - a kid, a spare, and a spare for the spare. Not to be irreverent about the 2nd and 3rd ones, but like you, I'd be so afraid of something happening. At this point, I'm probably up to wanting about 5. It feels like maybe if we have a lot of them, hopefully we'll at least get to see one outlive us.

I guess that's what having so many micarriages does to the mind. Clearly my therapist isn't going to be out of a job anytime soon... :-)