Since she was born, I've called Edie, Easy E. While I make an effort to never compare my daughters, as an newborn and infant, Edie was a breeze compared to her older sister. We often joke that we paid our dues with Mo and got Edie as a reward. She's just always been so innately happy and easy to please-- a trait I would find utterly annoying if she weren't mine.
It wasn't until late January that we realized that she was even capable of being unhappy and we were introduced to Easy E's alter-ego, Not So Fucking Easy E. She got her first ear infection and it took over a month to recover. Since then, she's had four more double-ear infections, each one lasting for at least a month and requiring multiple rounds of antibiotics to clear it up completely. Basically, her ear canal is extremely narrow and prevents any fluid from draining, causing a whole lot of fuckery and unhappiness. Even when her ears aren't actually infected, the constant presence of fluid causes pressure, waking her up around one a.m. every. single. night. To say that our family is tired would be a grave understatement and the exhaustion has taken its' toll on all of us. Let's just say that I now know why sleep depravation is used as a method of torture.
We took her to the ENT a few weeks ago and they told us that she also has some minor hearing loss because of the fluid, as if she were under water trying to listen to people. So, on Friday morning, for the sake and sanity of Edie and our entire family, she's getting tubes. I'm trying to not think so much of the possibility of anything going wrong though, naturally, it's proving rather impossible. Instead, I'm trying to focus on getting my happy baby back... on being reacquainted with our sweet Easy E.
However, I must say that my anxiety is through the roof leading up to the procedure. For over a week now, I've been having nightmares of her not waking up from the anesthesia which is rather dramatic, I know. My brain tells me to relax but, please tell me, when in motherhood does the brain have the power to dictate anything? NEVER. When a mother's worst fear of something going wrong or something happening to the person you love the most in this world is not only thrusted to the front of your mind but also becomes an actual possibility, logic doesn't exist. Of course my head knows that this procedure is routine and fairly common and the doctors and nurses taking care of her are qualified but my heart says that there is absolutely nothing routine or common about handing your baby off from your arms into the arms of a stranger and trusting them with her life. I'm working hard to pull myself together by Friday because I really don't want to be that hysterical mom sobbing in the waiting room. I keep telling myself that improving her quality of life (and our family's) is worth the risk but I'm kind of failing miserably.
In the meantime, if you're into this kind of thing, could you send any spare good juju you've got laying around over this way? For our sweet girl and for me. Please and thank you.