Friday, May 4, 2012
That's how many more days until Hudson's surgery.
And that's how many more times I have to put his mouth piece back in.
Everyday around 9 or 10 o'clock I take his NAM out (unless it falls out on it's own) to scrub and clean what's left of the goop that holds it in. If I take too long then he's probably sitting in his bouncy chair on the island whining and yelling to me behind my back. I only want to give him a break from it, but he wont have it. He doesn't like when it's out now. He's gotten use to the once foreign object we have had to put in his mouth for the past 8 weeks (has it really been that long?!). I try and calm him down with his pacifier while I hurry and dry that NAM thing, but he wont have that either. I don't know why I even try it every time. So he gets to cry while I squeeze some more denture, yes denture, adhesive onto the mouth piece, take a q-tip from my pile and spread it around like butter. But not before the tape goes on! No, the tape must be first because I'm not gonna try and thread it through the loop of the piece that goes up into his nose. I'm not trying that again while I have a boy kicking and crying and shaking his head side to side. The tape goes first. Crying or no cry it gets put on.
So the mouth piece gets put in next. If he's crying then it's easy. He doesn't gag when he cries and it breaks my heart to do that to him. His mouth is already open while crying so I slide it in real quick and press it up against the roof of his mouth and hold it for 30 seconds, which usually turns out to be more like 15. I can't take the cry of the poor little boy who thinks he's being tortured. I scramble for his pacifier and plop it in. He wimpers for a minute and then looks at me like "don't do that again".
After 58 days of the NAM it has become part of our daily routine. Just like the torture of tummy time and washing bottles which I almost hate doing more than dealing with the NAM. I'll be happy when it's gone and I can stare at my sweet baby's face without anything obscuring my view. No stranger will ever know he was born with a cleft lip. Which I also might miss...
So it is, my count down of q-tips begins. Only 27 more days my sweet baby boy. These are only the battles. The war has yet to be won.
May the odds ever be in your favor.
at 4:05 PM