down the rabbit hole

It's just after 8am on the third day of our hospital stay. Liam is sleeping, which is good. He had trouble settling down last night. Finally around 4am, we took out his crib and moved in a hospital bed. Mama climbed in too, and we both slept for a solid three hours. Bliss.

The funny thing about hospitals is that you lose all perspective about the outside world. The time of day doesn't seem to make sense, and weather has no correlation to either your mood or your comfort. Time goes in spirals.

My baby came through. His sinus tract was untethered from the spinal cord, and shows no signs of leaking or infection. We're still in pediatric intensive care, but it looks like we'll be going home at the end of today. Liam is very much himself again, just a little weepier. You would be too, if you saw how many times they tried to draw blood while he was under. Dozens. There are pricks on his feet, legs, arms, hands, even his head. Fat little babies with tiny veins are a tough case. His incision on his back is two inches long, and looks fine. No swelling, no leaks.

Poor little bean. Recovery was hell. Sheer hell. If you've never seen your child come out from anaesthesia, I hope you never do. He's scared and in a lot of pain. Besides the usual, changes in spinal fluid pressure apparently give you the world's worst migraine. AND on Tuesday, they discovered that his poor little penis had a little skin that had adhered to the tip. During surgery, they separated them, leaving a raw little peepee. Add a catheter, and you can just imagine.

The only way to manage post-op pain like that was morphine. It was a relief and a horror every time he needed more. He just got snowed under, but at least he was comfortable. He's been on nothing but ibuprofen now, and it seems to be managing the discomfort, although it tastes wicked bad, according to Liam.

It's now for certain that we'll be back in 2-4 weeks for surgery to correct Liam's craniosynostosis. The surgeon here showed us her powerpoint she uses for teaching with all the kinds of cases she's corrected. Very graphic. But at least we now know what to expect. The good part is they don't touch the brain tissue at all. The bad part is they take chunks of skull out, resulting in a tremendous amount of swelling post-op. My poor little bean. But once again, apparently once it's done, he'll look and be completely normal. But the experience will be sure to shave a few more minutes off the lives of Glenn and I.

I dread having to make the calls to all our family to tell them about the next surgery. Until we were certain he was saggital, we didn't tell anyone besides the grandparents. I shared it online because, you know, the anonymity of it all. Bizarre, huh? But now I have to explain it over and over again. Ugh.

I miss my poor pup horribly. I keep thinking about Tuesday. After the deed, we buried him, and then I had to take Liam to the hospital for preadmission testing. We were there for hours and it rained very hard. When I got back to the house there was the biggest, most intensely colored rainbow I have ever seen. A double, actually. I thought my heart would squeeze itself into my throat. Glenn still can't help talking to him. Unless you've met Glenn, that doesn't make much sense, but between them, they developed a private language.

Liam is awakening, and I feel the need to climb into bed with him. He's been kept flat for the past two days and it's only today I've been able to pick him up. There is NOTHING better than holding my little baby to my chest. Let the healing begin.