Labor is hard work for not only the mother, it turns out. During the 45 long minutes in which I screamed and kicked and scratched at the people around me, O quietly and patiently waited for her arrival.
Having her tiny head squeezed through such a small space not only caused her head to be tilted to the left for a while (we all remember those days), but it also blocked her tear duct in her right eye.
In reality, it’s not that big of a deal. Sometimes, her eye waters more than usual and crusts over during the night (okay, that part is pretty gross.) The only real issue it causes is when she gets something in her right eye and it won’t produce the tears to get rid of it.
For example, we took a trip to the beach the other day and like every new mom of a porcelain-doll-kind-of-pale child, I drenched her in sunscreen about five times before actually being in the sun.
Throughout our fun-filled day, some had melted into her eyes and although it was a gentle, baby-proof lotion, her eye wouldn’t do it’s friggin’ job. Because, and here it all comes together, I messed it up while trying to get her out of me.
We knew she had this problem from very early on. Our pediatrician told us to rub her nose every time we changed her diaper in hopes of unblocking it ourselves. If this wasn’t possible, she said, a minor surgery would need to be performed by the age of nine months.
I rubbed her nose like it was a stubborn genie. Like it was a stain on the counter that refused to go away.
Then, she turned nine months with a watery, crusty eye. This is when we scheduled an appointment with the eye doctor.
The doctor our pediatrician recommended was forty-five minutes away from our house. She took exactly one and a half minutes telling us that her tear duct was blocked and she needed surgery.
Literally everything we already knew.
First surgery scheduled.
FIrst surgery canceled. My husband and I canceled the first surgery, a decision we completely regret. I hadn’t gotten her pre-op done in time and we had no choice.
“We will call you back with a new date,” they said. “We’ll call you back,” they said.
Finally, after two weeks, we were able to schedule our second surgery which was almost a month and a half later. A week before, we get a call.
“I am calling to confirm Oakley’s surgery for tomorrow,”
Her surgery? You mean the one that’s in a week?
“I’m sorry about that, we’ll call to confirm next week,” they said. “We’ll call you back,” they said.
The day before her second scheduled surgery, we finally get a call asking us to come to their office location in our home town.
“Oh, there was miscommunication. She still has a blocked tear duct. We still need to do surgery.”
Honestly, why do you make us leave the house?
So, here we are. Her third scheduled surgery is set for two days before her first birthday. I not only have to get another pre-op before then, but have her updated on her vaccinations. Oh, and throw a birthday party.
Is it overboard to call and confirm every single morning?