Yes, she is a tiny person and therefore she gets scared and a little nervous, but she always bounces back to her normal self.
We arrived at ACH just before 11:30 and her treatment was scheduled for 1:30. Poor baby had not been allowed to eat all morning and she was only allowed no more than 12 oz of clear liquids up to 10:30. It was a semi-long morning at the house. And it was going pretty good (she is easily distracted by cartoons) until she asked me, "Where we going, Mama?" And I told her that we were going to see the doctor. That is when the flood gates opened and I almost lost it because as I was holding her, trying to comfort her, she looked at me with those big, blue eyes and said, "But I feel fine, Mama!"
Punched right in the gut is what I felt... "I know you feel fine, Baby, but it will okay and we'll be back home before you know it." Those words did not comfort her.
She fell asleep in the car on the way there. I'm sure from pure exhaustion and not being able to eat. When I got her out of the car, she said, "We're here?" And there were no tears, because I told you, she is AMAZING.
We were very quickly assigned our room to wait and I got her changed into her little yellow scrub like pants and top. I knew that she knew something was up, but she didn't ask me what we were doing. We settled into the chair and snuggled while waiting and watching cartoons. Nurses and doctors came and went... and each time someone new came into the room she told me she wanted to go home. All I could say, was not yet... but soon.
The nurse came to take her at 2:00 and by then the goofy juice had made her really limp and very sleepy. She laid on the hospital bed and they wheeled her away. Only when she realized that I couldn't go with her did she start to cry and call for me. My heart breaks EVERY TIME I have to walk through those doors without her, while hearing her cry for me. I know she has to be scared and it just kills me inside.
Thankfully, I know that she can't be scared for long, because by 2:10 or 2:15 the doctor is already calling me on the lobby phone letting me know how the surgery went. Yes, it's that fast. And that is a blessing in itself.
This time I opted not to allow the recovery nurse to give her juice upon waking up. It always makes her sick in the car on the way home. So, I had Gatorade ready for her instead. She was already awake when they let me go back to the Recovery area... and she was scared again. Of course she was! She woke up in a strange place and was looking for me! Next time I think I will tell them that I prefer to be there when she wakes up... it's much easier to calm her down if she sees me when she first opens her eyes.
But after I scooped her up and held her tight she calmed down, drank some Gatorade, and finally stopped crying. When I told her we were going home she was ready and smiling. Rockstar.
She fell asleep on the way home and when we got there it was as if it never happened. She was back to her normal, happy go lucky, playful self.
Whew. We survived it again. The best part is that you can't even tell that she had the laser done. Unless you look really close you can see a few spots that managed to leave a mark. We go again in 3 months.
While part of me is happy about this... more treatments now might mean less treatments later, the other part of me dreads it with ever fiber of my being. She is so smart and she is eventually going to figure out what is going on and we'll have to have that dreaded conversation. The conversation that includes a bundle of questions including the toughest one - Why? One day she is going to look at me and ask me Why she has this birthmark. Why me Mama? And I have no idea what I'm going to say.
We will just have to cross that bridge when we get there. And pray the whole way that by that time she won't even be able to see the birthmark on her face. Then it might be easier to explain that Mama and Daddy did everything in our power to "fix" it for her. Because we love her more than she will ever know.
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