All Better! The (short) road to recovery!

Sorry to keep you in suspense! But, you're all better from your surgery. But, you probably shouldn't have been nervous. You're reading this now, so clearly, you know that you survived the surgery with flying colors.

In fact, by that afternoon you were acting as if nothing had happened.

They said you wouldn't remember this surgery at all, but I didn't know that they meant that you'd be forgiving and forgetting within hours!

Today your Mommy took you in for a follow up and they even took your bandage off.

The surgery couldn't have gone any better. Before you went back to the operation, you were all smiles and giggles, flirting with the nurses and playing (or trying, anyway) to play with all the neat toys in the hospital.

The doctor even let you play with the marker they used to write "YES" on the side of your head where they were going to operate.

Then they took you back and less than an hour later they called us back to see you as you were waking up from anesthesia. You were, understandably, a bit cranky and sleepy- but no major terror or crying.
Once we could hold you, you got very cuddly and lovey. All you wanted at that moment was your Mommy; not even your new Elmo did anything for you.
But, then you napped in the hospital, napped in the car and napped in your crib for about 3 hours. When you woke up from that nap, you were all better- you loved Elmo, you loved Mommy and Daddy and you wanted all bandaids off your body.

Once those were gone, all you wanted to do was eat and play again!


So, we spent the afternoon eating and playing with our happy, healthy little boy.

We are so proud of you Aidan- your strength and resilience is amazing. You made having your head cut open seem easy as pie! You're a little fighter; A little fire...and that's why we love you.

We were so glad when the surgery was over and felt silly for ever worrying to begin with. But, all in all, it was a great day that we all go to spend together. From our 5 am wake up call, all the way through to our very early bed times.

Big Steps

You're 14 months old and you're definitely mobile. You certainly know your way around our house.



As you can see, you're durable, you're brave, you love to laugh and play, you can stand, you can sit, you can crawl, you can even squat (but you can't do the fancy-walkin' that Toby was doing)!



But, there may be a new mode of transportation soon.



We think you're getting the hang of walking...and actually getting frustrated that you can't do it yet.

So, say hello to bruised knees and the inevitable floor-meets-Aidan; you're feeling walk-ish!

Watching these videos and seeing how strong, determined and fearless you are gives me strength. Tomorrow is your surgery. You have a dermoid cyst growing on your skull near your right temple. It's a small day surgery; but it's spooky and scary none-the-less. But, every day you amaze me, Aidan, and I know you're going to just kick this surgery's butt.

Not that it's been holding you back in any way, but once we get this big step of your surgery out of the way, I know you're going to be right back at taking big steps on your own.

Testing the Waters

It's been almost a week since I've written to you, but, don't worry, I haven't been away from you at all.

In fact, I was by your side pretty much the whole time. But that's only because your Mom was by my side.

I had surgery last Thursday in anticipation of your arrival. Seeing your due date approaching faster and faster, I finally decided to do something I've been wanting to do for a long time: have my broken sniffer repaired.

I had what they call a deviated septum, which means that I couldn't really breathe through my nose properly. I hope you get your mother's nose, if only to avoid the deviation and the surgery.

But there was no avoiding it for me. I wanted to be able to be firing on all cylinders (and all nostrils) for all of our time together, so I decided to get the surgery done.

Your Mother - at 34 weeks pregnant- has been my "patient" for a long time, as I've been "babying" her (with good reason) for a lot of the pregnancy. (It's my pleasure to do so, seriously. ) But, starting on Thursday, I was in no condition to take care of your Mom; and she was awesome enough to take care of me.

Let's just say I was testing your Mom's maternal medical instincts- and she passed with super 'A plusses.'

She did the gross (like cleaning out my nose with Q-tips and changing my bandages and not cringing when I had to spit up blood and crud).

She was patient ( like putting up with me, and even being kind to me, while I was on pain killers that made me loopy).

She was strong for me (like telling me it would all be okay, when I was definitely feeling like it wouldn't).

She lifted my spirits (and made my laugh when I didn't feel like I could, and definitely when my stiff face and nasal stitches told me that I shouldn't-- but, despite the brief pain, laughter was the best medicine).

She took my temperature, administered my medicines, taught me how to clean up my own nose and- heck- she even washed my hair.

And all this while 34 weeks pregnant with a ever-growing, kinda painful honeydew in her belly! I knew she was hurting and tired too, but she helped me get better despite that.

So, all that is to say: when your Mom has to take care of you, I know for sure that you are in good hands. That's not to say that there was any doubt before, since she's taken care of me while I was ill (or just bummed) many times over the past 12 years. But this was just a recent reaffirmation that, really, I couldn't ask for a better wife and you couldn't ask for a better mother.

(And, no, I'm not sucking up to her; I'm just calling it like I sees it!)

Your Beautiful Mother, Trying Hard not to Smile

But, I wasn't the only one testing the waters this weekend. As you passsed your 34th week-iversary, you really started testing your Mother too. With one foot - or maybe two- firmly placed against her ribs on her right hand side, you started pushing, and stretching and stretching some more.

This is your new favorite trick; and you've been doing it sporadically all weekend, especially near bedtime. As last night was my first night back in bed (after being quarantined on the couch, to avoid a thrashing Holly hitting my face during my sleep), I was able to feel your foot pressing against her ribs and then pushing even more.

I gently held on to your foot and tried to encourage you to push it down away from her ribs, kind of like scooting a under-the-blankets tennis ball down a bed from on top of the covers (haven't you ever done that before?). But your foot firmly remained in your mother's ribs, definitely testing the limits of discomfort. So, I tried again, this time talking you through it, and almost massaging your Mom's ribs to encourage you to scoot your foot elsewhere.

To be honest, I don't really remember if I was able to get you to move your foot away, because I fell asleep - all this facial healing takes a lot of energy out of you. But, rest assured, after yours and my combined weekend of testing your Mom's strength and resolve and patience, I'm now ready to resign the efforts back to you: it's your solo gig once again.

Worry not, though- I won't leave your side for too long at all. But it will be because I will be by your Mom's side; hopefully helping her, and making her laugh, and making her dinner as you continue to kick her ribs all the way to the finish line, which is now under 40 days away.