Surgery #1 Lip and Nose Repair

Before Sam’ surgery people kept asking me, “Are you nervous?”  And my answer was always, “No, not really.”

And that’s the truth. All the way up to and throughout the surgery I was not nervous or worried or scared or any of the the other things that maybe I should have been feeling.

I’ve had a year to prepare. Ever since we saw Sam’s picture for the first time, we knew this day was coming. It kind of loomed over us like a dark cloud for so long that it was almost a relief that we were moving forward.

Don’t get me wrong, I really didn’t want Sam to be scared or in pain. I wanted to protect my sweet boy from all of that.

But as far as me be nervous, I just wasn’t. I was calm, collected and ready. And I think that was a really good place to be. I felt that I could devote 100% of myself to Sam and not have to worry about any of my own emotions.

On the day of surgery, we had to arrive at the hospital at 7:00. That’s AM. That meant that everyone had to be up, dressed and ready to leave by 6:15 AM. Oh, joy. We have trouble making it out of the house by 10AM most days!

Somehow we managed to have everyone and everything in the car by said time and we were off to the hospital. As soon as we arrived we were brought directly to Sam’s room where we were instructed to get him in a hospital gown.

Sam’s arrival at his hospital room

Over the next half hour, various nurses came in to check different things. Blood pressure, temperature, blood gases, etc. Finally one nurse came in and told us that Sam’s surgery was the surgeon’s second surgery of the day so we should expect it to start at 11AM. What the heck? Why did we have to be there at o’dark thirty if the surgery didn’t begin until 11AM?

We had a lot of time to kill, so we took pictures. Did you have any doubts?

Mommy and Sam pre-surgery.

Sam’s cheering section.

Sam checking out the crib in his room.

Sam deciding he didn’t like the crib.

Sam saying a prayer before surgery.

Sam heeding the call of nature (yes, he still squats to pee).

“I think it would be more fun to go out there!”

“On second thought, maybe not!”

Molly and Sam fill the hours waiting for surgery by coloring and playing

The surgeon visited us briefly and told us that he had been studying all of the pictures we had sent of Sam’s previous surgery in China. He believed that they attempted a complete repair of his lip and nose, but got half way through and were unsure how to finish. The surgery was stopped and he was simply sewn back up at that point an no further work was done. His recovery pictures were also very telling and Sam had some obvious tissue loss in his lip. That, along with the scarring from the original surgery were going to complicate things for this surgery.

This was not particularly encouraging news, but at this point you must simply play the cards you are dealt. Our surgeon is  nationally recognized in the area of cleft repair so we knew that Sam could not be in better hands. We felt confident that things would turn out fine.

Looking back, we probably should have been freaking out, but we weren’t. Our feeling has always been that we loved Sam’s little face. We loved his cleft, we loved his smile, we loved how his his happy, gentle little soul shined through his entire face. Fixing it to 100% perfection never mattered to us. I may to him some day, but it has never mattered to us.

The anesthesiologist also came by and told us that an hour prior to surgery, the nurse would bring Sam some medication that would make him drowsy and relaxed. He also explained about his IV and other aspects of the surgery. Once again, we felt confident in the team that was taking care of our precious boy.

Around 10 AM, a expected, the nurse came in with Sam’s happy medication in anticipation of an 11AM surgery. Except that’s not what happened because at 10:15 they came in to get Sam for surgery. That’s only 15 minutes with the happy juice coursing through his little veins! That’s not enough time!

Tony holding Sam just prior to surgery

Me and Sam just prior to surgery

The staff let me carry Sam all the way down to surgery, which was a good thing. Right before Sam had to enter the room, we had a few minutes for our final cuddles. This is where I got a little misty.

This was going to be the last time that I saw this face. The face I fell in love with. The face I stared at for 10 months as we paper chased our way to China. The face that I first touched when they placed Dang Qiao into my arms for the first time. The face that I tucked into bed every night for the past two months. The face that I kissed 100 times a day. The face that could smile bigger than anyone else in the world.

As hard as it was, I kissed that face for the last time, handed him to a nurse and then watched him cry and reach for me as they carried him through the doors of the operating room.Just stab me in the heart, why don’t ya. See, I knew he didn’t have the happy juice in him for long enough.

At least I knew that anesthesia kills your short term memory and he wouldn’t remember me leaving him in someone else’s arms. Helps him, doesn’t help me. I have those little outstretched arms and tear-streamed face burned into my memory forever.  Sigh.

The surgery lasted about 3 hours--about an hour longer than estimated, but once again, we were calm. When the doctor came out he said that Sam’s repair was a success. He was able to work around scar tissue, reattach muscles and close his lip and nose successfully. He also told us we had a lot of additional surgeries ahead of us, which we already knew. Sigh again.

Just as the doctor was finishing, an OR nurse came and got me. My boy was awake and was asking for me! When I arrived in post op he was crying and reaching for me, but as soon as I held him, he quieted right down.

My reaction when I first saw Sam was that his mouth was so small! And he looked so different. But that’s about all I had time to think because Sam buried his head in my chest and fell asleep.

Sam’s vitals were strong so his time in post op was brief. Soon we were back in his room, cuddling in a rocking chair.I know that in this picture I look happy at such a serious moment. But you see, I am at that age where your skin loses all of its muscle tone and if you don’t smile your face relaxes into a frown.

Don’t believe me? Here is the first picture Tony took. I looked crabby so I made Tony retake it. Because I wasn’t  crabby. I was loving on my kid. Damn that aging process. 

Anyway, back to Sam. Here he is just moments after surgery.Wow! The surgeon did an amazing job! He is truly a miracle worker in our eyes.

Humorous side note…when Sam went into surgery he had a bib on because he drools. A lot. When they returned the bib to me after surgery it came sealed in a biohazard bag. Yep, they got that right. One look at a used bib and you definitely think biohazard!

Sam slept in my lap most of the afternoon. By evening my bum was more than a little sore from sitting in the hard rocker. Because Sam doesn’t sleep in a crib I requested that  a bed be brought in for him. The wonderful nurses had a bed in our room in less than a minute. They were angels. True angels.

Tony and Molly left to get dinner. I ordered Sam some things off the hospital menu. I requested a lot of different stuff because I wasn’t sure what he would want. Guess what? The human garbage disposal ate everything I ordered for him: 2 pieces of French toast, 2 containers of yogurt, and an entire plate of scrambled eggs with cheese.

And that’s pretty much the way the rest of Sam’s recovery went. He was a soldier. He faced every obstacle head on. The only pain medication that he needed was just plain, off the shelf Tylenol. Seriously. He didn’t complain a bit about the arm restraints or about the nurses continually poking and prodding at him to check his vitals.

Sam and I stayed the night in the hospital while Tony and Molly returned home for the evening. Things got a little boring, so I whipped out my camera. Again.

Sleeping angel

Mommy (smiling so I my face doesn’t so that saggy frown thing) and sleeping Sam.

Yep, more sleeping. Major surgery makes you pretty tired, apparently.

First thing in the morning, Sam inhaled 2 pancakes, 2 yogurts, and another big plate of eggs. The doctor watched him eat and laughed. He also discharged us just 24 hours after our arrival! Woo hoo!

Sam, Molly and Mom ready to head home.

Sam and TonyTony was my night in shining armor—he met every need Sam and I had during our stay. He like that. That’s why I married him!

And just so you can see the pictures close together, here they are one more time.

BeforeAfterAmazing!

Now I wonder if that plastic surgeon can do anything about my saggy, droopy frowny face.

Sam’s First Haircut by Daddy

…and probably the last.

When we were still dating, Tony got the idea in his head that his $8 Great Clips hair cut was a gigantic rip-off (Obviously the man has never gone to a spa for a haircut. Eight dollars? Try eighty!). So he bought himself some clippers and started cutting his own hair.

The first two words that come to mind are skin head. Or is that one word: skinhead? I don’t know, but that’s beside the point.

With his pale complexion and close cropped hair, it looked like Tony was some sort of thug. Like he should be wearing black army boots and a tight tee shirt, riding the NY subway.

But I didn’t say anything. Because I’m like that.

Well, okay maybe I did, but we weren’t married yet so I couched it in that delicately worded language that you use when you are still pretending that you are a nice person. But it didn’t make a difference.

When we got engaged, Tony was still shaving his head cutting his own hair. I requested that for the wedding he grow his hair out a bit and get it cut by a barber. Which he did.

Once we were home from the honeymoon I took the clippers and hid them in a place that he would never find them. And he never did, for a long, long time. He started going back to the barber and all was right with the world.

That’s an exaggeration. All was right with his hair. Mostly.

Several months ago, we moved. And somehow in that move, Tony rediscovered the clippers. I told him in no uncertain terms (we’ve been married for almost 14 years now so I don’t couch my requests in that delicately worded language anymore) that the clippers were not to be used on his hair. He would continue going to the barber and shelling out the cash despite his newfound knowledge of the clippers whereabouts.

But then we got Sam. And Sam needed a haircut. Tony eagerly volunteered. And for some strange reason my common sense flew out the window and I agreed.

I was very specific with my request: Short on the sides, longer on the top. Just like Daddy’s.

So Daddy sets up the barber shop in my kitchen and begins to clip away. Look at this picture! Two things are wrong right off the bat.First, my precious son doesn’t have anything covering him so that he is protected from all the itchy hair that is falling in his lap. Second. Tony is clipping off the top. Hello? I said clippers on the side, longer on the top!

Okay, so he remedied the hair-on-the-clothes thing, but look: he is still clipping off of the top!

And even after my nagging gentle reminders nagging, he is still clipping off the top. Geez man, don’t you listen?

Sister lending her moral support to Sam with a gentle pat to the back of the head.

Sam is wondering why Dad is not following Mom’s panicked instructions.

Molly is thrilled that Dad isn’t cutting her hair.At this point I stopped taking pictures and jumped in to give more advice, which was unheeded, of course.

Let’s just skip over the rest—because it’s not pretty—and jump right to the end. The end being that Sam got an all over buzz cut.

Which I hate.

Hence the reason that Daddy will never give another haircut.

And the clippers are hidden.

Again.

Until his hair grows out, Sam will be sporting this outfit.

Eeeeeewww! That’s Gross!

If you have a squeamish stomach you may not want to continue reading this post. Really. It’s gross.

But I see it as a public service announcement to all of my friends who have adopted kids from China, because the information contained within could change their lives.

Okay, not dramatically change their lives, but change them a little for the better. I think.

Three guesses as to what this is:

Not sure? Here’s another view.

It’s earwax. My daughter’s earwax. Eeeeeew.

Yes, my adorable, chubby-cheeked daughter has this nasty stuff lodged in her ears and it takes some doing to get it out.

You see a Q-Tip won’t extract Asian earwax. It’s different that the type of earwax that most people of European decent possess.

I say this like I am an expert or have researched this, but I haven’t. So don’t confuse what I am saying with actual documented fact. Heck, I just asked around and got some feedback and information from friends. Wikipedia may actually be more accurate than me on this one.For once.

Anyway, Molly’s earwax is hard, crumbly stuff that gets wedged in her ear canal like a plug. Using a Q-Tip only pushes the mass of waxy grossness father into her ear. Doctors can get it out, but I can’t.

Until now.

You see, I did a little digging (I use the term figuratively here), and found out that many Asians use a little ear spoon to extract earwax. So I searched on Amazon for Asian Ear Spoon and what do you know…got a lot of hits.

So I purchased one of the models shown and wouldn’t you know, it worked like a charm. I pulled out a hunk of wax from Molly’s ear on the very first try. And then I photographed it. I’m like that.

Here’s the ear spoon that I purchased along with the earwax that I extracted. I like that word. Extracted. It sounds so medical.

Thrilled with my success, I went back on line and ordered this little gem. It’s a lighted ear spoon. Now I don’t even need a flashlight to extract earwax. Look at me go!

Now I can just hear all of my critics: “You should never put anything inside your kid’s ear, or your ear for that matter, blah, blah, blah. You should let a doctor do that.”

Hey, I’m not a doctor, but I play one on my blog.

And that’s about all I am going to say about that, because it was quick, easy and Molly much preferred me over the doctor, who by the way, took much longer, hurt Molly, extracted less wax that I did, and charged me my copay.

So there.

This and That

Here are some random pictures from my camera that don’t fall into any neat little category which would warrant a witty little post dedicated specifically to them.

Here’s Sam crying. I post so may of him smiling that I probably have given you the false impression that he is always happy. He is happy. A lot. But he is human and he cries. And with a mouth the size of his, its loud. Just saying.

Molly writing thank you notes. If you still haven’t got yours for a Christmas present you sent, don’t worry. They.will.get.written! Or my name isn’t Mother.

Looking cute at the dentist’s office.

Teeth cleaning. They never gave me big fancy glasses when I was a kid.

Molly celebrates 100 Day at school.

Molly and Sam show off a Duplo block creation.

No, my son is not playing with a doll. He is practicing being a good father. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Reading books before bedtime.

They looked so cute that I had to add a few more.

Eating snack while watching Pleasant Goat and Big Bad Wolf (Chinese cartoon) on Youtube.

See, random. But fun!

My Sweet Little Valentines

Let me start by saying that Valentines Day is not one of my favorite holidays. It’s total Hallmark made up nonsense forced upon us so that we will go out and buy a bunch of crap that we don’t need in order to not look like a total loser to our significant other who has also been brainwashed to go out and buy a bunch of unneeded crap.

Although I do like the chocolate. But that is beside the point.

Despite my jaded view of February 14th, I do remember being a kid and loving it. Decorating the shoe box, addressing cards, receiving valentines, eating red lollipops. Ah, the memories.

Sam’s a bit young to get involved in Valentines Day, but Molly is just the right age. She had a count down going at the beginning of the month. She was excited. And who am I to squash my child’s excitement with a cold dose of reality. So let cupid loose. Let’s get this party started!

Molly making a Valentines Day card at her school party.

Decorating a cookie…

…and then eating said cookie.

More treats at home. I had big helium balloons for the kids, but I accidently popped one when I was bringing it in the house. Therefore neither one got a balloon because, even though I am new to the mother-of-two-kids thing, I already know that you can’t give to one without giving to the other.

Sam and Molly examine their treats and wonder why their Mom was such a loser and didn’t get them helium balloons.

Molly and Sam fake a smile and try to hide their disappointment over not getting a big helium balloon for Valentine’s Day.

Molly with her goodies.

Sam with his goodies.

Sam loved his cards. Because there were three. And he could line them up (see this post).

Molly with her cards. She’s not as linear as Sam.

Molly going through her Valentines from school.

Trying to convince me that she really needs more sugar today.

Looking at her favorite card.

Showing you, the viewers at home, what she was looking at.

Happy Totally Made Up Holiday Invented So That You Will Go To the Store and Be Guilted Into Buying Useless Crap Day!