Post-op

My darling Hame's surgery went beautifully, and my little one is one astounding human.

We had to wake up very early on Wednesday morning to get to the hospital by 6am for surgery at 8am. He was nil-by-mouth, so I was really worried he was going to be hungry and miserable for the two hours we were waiting around. [I would have been!]

But he wasn't- not even a bit. He was a little ray of sunshine. Smiling and laughing at all the nurses and hospital staff. Running up and down the corridors of his ward giggling and waving at everyone he passed. Bouncing up and down on his bed.

The anaesthetist came by about an hour before his scheduled surgery time to explain to us what he was going to do, and told us that most babies are really very upset when they come out of the anaesthetic and get quite distressed with the gas used to put them to sleep. So we were prepared for lots of tears.

I went into the theatre with him, anxiously wondering how it was going to go. I wasn't sure how well I would hold it together if he started thrashing around and really crying. But do you know what that little darling boy did? He just sing-songed and smiled at every one until his long eyelashed fluttered closed against his perfect little cheeks.

I didn't cry. There was no need. He was perfectly fine. I did get a very sore lump in my throat as I left the theatre though - as unlikely as it was, I couldn't get rid of that paralysing fear in the very dark depths of my mind that something could go horribly wrong while he was under the anaesthetic and that last kiss I placed on his soft little cheek might have been the last one ever.

But of course he was fine. And when he came out of his anaesthetic he was astonishing. Still smiling. And snuggling. T and I both got some fabulous, long baby snuggles because he was still so sleepy, and we cherished every last minute. We don't get enough of those long warm snuggles these days.

He is so remarkable. If it wasn't for the bandages, you'd never know he had an operation yesterday. While still in hospital, still pretty groggy, he was hiding behind the curtain and playing 'boo' - just to see us smile. As if to say "don't worry about me mama, I'm better than ever".

He still hasn't cried. Not in pain. Not when he overbalanced and fell onto his arms. Not when he and Lach collided and he fell. Not when he can't pick up his sipper cup, or his food, or his toys, or turn the pages of his book.

He is his usual smiley, laughing, singing, happy self. I've never been so proud of him.

We are so lucky to have such an angelic, happy baby boy.