Early Wednesday morning, before McCoy had woken at his usual time, I went into his nursery and gently picked him up, snuggling him as I carried him to the car. Dallas had everything loaded and the car running and warmed up. I jumped in the front seat with McCoy in my arms, and cradled him on the drive to the hospital (don't report me!). He was wide awake and enjoyed watching the lights pass by from cars or street lamps. It was an emotional drive, and one that ended all too quickly.
We arrived at the Children's Medical Hospital in downtown Dallas at 6am. Check-in was pretty quick - they weighed him, measured him, and asked lots of medical questions. Dallas and I both would randomly burst out in tears, and holding the emotions at bay was difficult as we gowned McCoy up and got ready to say goodbye. The nurses were all very kind, and we felt peaceful, despite the anxiousness looming all around of what was coming next.
We were taken down to a pre-op room, which was basically a big room filled with a bunch of curtains dividing us from other patients waiting to have their own surgery. Here we met our anesthesiologist and also talked with Dr. Burns (our plastic surgeon). Luckily up to this point, McCoy was very comfortable and hadn't had to be IV'd - apparently they would do that after he was in the operating room and put to sleep with a gas mask. A tender mercy that he wouldn't have to feel any pain.
Finally, a nurse came to get McCoy. Transferring him from my arms to hers was the hardest thing up to this point. He seemed a little leery, but thankfully did not cry. We watched him be carried away and didn't leave until he had rounded the corner and was out of our sight. Now, the waiting began.
It felt like FOREVER. We kept watching the monitor where McCoy's name was listed with regular updates on his status. To kill some time, and because many other moms who've gone through this gave me the advice to eat and stay hydrated, we went and got some breakfast. Afterwards we came back and tried to lay down and rest while we waited, but obviously could not get to sleep. Finally, on the monitor it updated to say that McCoy's surgery was finishing up ("closing", as they called it), and that he'd be in recovery soon. Then I received a test message from the nurse (who previously arranged to update me) saying he'd be in recovery within the next 30 minutes. Well, 30 minutes came and went and we were so anxious to be with McCoy, but Dr. Burns still hadn't come to talk with us (which would occur before we could go to recovery to be with McCoy). It was killing us! FINALLY, Dr. Burns came out and he told us how the surgery went. He said McCoy did very well, didn't have any bad reactions, and lost an extremely small amount of blood - less than usual, which he said was excellent. He encouraged us and even hugged me. We really are so lucky to have found him, and I told him how blessed we felt that he is our surgeon, and that he did such a wonderful job with McCoy. Then, we waited some MORE (enough that I made Dallas go talk to someone to find out how much longer! which he didn't love of course haha), and eventually a nurse came and got us and escorted us to the recovery room. When we walked up to McCoy laying face down on the bed, we both could not keep from crying, and a heaviness and weight settled upon us. I can't even put into words how those next hours felt, but I'll never forget the feeling of wishing I could un-do everything that had just been done. A mother (and father for that matter) should never have to see their child the way we saw McCoy then.
To skip all the sad details, McCoy struggled coming out of the anesthesia. We learned later it may have been because he was given too much of a particular drug right before he was waking up from the IV anesthesia. We'll never be certain. But, thankfully we had two amazing recovery nurses that took excellent care of us. We were moved up to his permanent recovery room, but once up there, after they tried transferring him to his new bed, his heart rate plummeted and his breathing was not within the numbers it should've been, so we were moved back down to post-op recovery until he became more stable. I was grateful. After the episode of him popping his head up, screaming out and proceeding to hold his breath until he literally turned purple (which was the worst thing I've ever seen and experienced, and literally almost scared me to death!), I was very glad to be surrounded by 2 nurses who wouldn't leave our sides until McCoy was stable again. Eventually, he was doing better (after we picked him up and held him, which I was initially frightened to do), and we went back up to his recovery room. Our nurse (who we discovered was LDS, imagine that!) was wonderful and took good care of McCoy and us. We took turns holding McCoy, Dallas and I, until my mom arrived later that night. Swede came over and administered a blessing with Dallas to McCoy. Dallas said it was like the millionth blessing he'd given McCoy that day :) We are so grateful for the power of the priesthood, and know that it, along with the many prayers on our behalf, are what got us through his surgery and recovery, especially that first 24-48 hours. McCoy slept on Grammy's stomach while I tried to get some rest, and Dallas went home to get a good night's rest, as he had work the next day. Halfway through the night I took McCoy and had him sleep on me. Holding him and maneuvering him to eat, or change his diaper, was extremely difficult. He always screamed out in pain, but his voice did not sound like himself. All the chords attached to him were very annoying. He was also very swollen and did not look like himself, hardly at all. But thankfully, he actually rested a lot better than I had anticipated, and I felt strength and prepared as we were discharged from the hospital the next morning. Dallas came and got me (mom had gone home earlier that morning), and I once again held McCoy in my arms as we drove home.
Getting McCoy to take his medications (antibiotics for 5 days post-op, 3x a day, and pain meds every 4 hours), was a fiasco! He got smarter and trickier and would hold the medicine in his mouth a moment after it was given, only to spit it all out seconds later. He hardly got any medicine down him sometimes, but I'm sure Dallas and mom and I will always remember the jumping up and down, dance-on-our-head, do-whatever-it-bloody-takes moments to get him to swallow it! :)
Day by day, McCoy improved, and the first time he graced us with a smile was like a gift from heaven, seriously! There were only tiny moments that first week that we were given such a breath of fresh air - most the time he was sad or tranquil and had to be held 24/7 - but those moments helped us make it through. We all also had a lot of sleepless nights and days, having to rock McCoy or let him sleep on our stomachs. But eventually, he became more and more himself, and it finally felt like the worst was behind us.
Through this all, I cannot deny the power of Heavenly Father's love that I felt envelop us, and the strength that He gave us to get through. All of you helped us in one way or another - whether it was holding McCoy, sending uplifting text messages, praying for us, thinking of us, coming over on Sunday and making a gourmet dinner and cleaning it up, rocking McCoy, loving him, sending words of encouragement, and so forth. It all helped us more than we can even express, and we're so grateful to have such a wonderful family that buoyed us up and gathered around us in our time of need. We love each of you, and are so grateful for the love you have for McCoy.
