Surgery Scheduled for November 24

Seth and I spent the first week after the meeting with Dr. Boydston thinking about it individually. We did a quick check-in after that time and were both leaning toward having the surgery. I think my anxiety level was rising every time I saw Zyle fall down or when we tried to assess whether his language delays were a problem or just normal. Every action, or lack thereof, brought worry that it could be due to head compression.

By the end of September we checked in with each other again and realized we still wanted to go forward with surgery. My cousin Patti brought pictures to the family reunion and celebration of my grandfather's 90th birthday October 2-3. A child she knows had the surgery, and the pictures prepared us for the body swelling that takes over during recovery and lasts for a few days. They also showed how a little girl could look pretty normal after having this procedure.

And then Seth started the process of trying to get surgery scheduled. I gave up after leaving two messages for the scheduler. Seth is persistent -- it's one of his most useful traits. What I would consider "hounding" someone, he somehow turns into persuasiveness. Whereas I might have an edge in my voice wondering with exasperation why it took 12 phone calls to get the person to call me back, he charms her and discusses the trials and tribulations of working in an office setting before getting to the business at hand. Bottom line, he and our surgery scheduler got chatty. She coordinated with the craniofacial surgeon's (Dr. Williams) office, which wanted us to come in for a meet and greet there.

Four weeks later, we finally got a surgery date. Tuesday, November 24th, Thanksgiving week. We're expecting two weeks of recovery time. I am rearranging all my projects that I need to get finished by the end of December. (Work hit an exceedingly busy patch last month.) Seth and I are setting up with the Red Cross to donate blood to Zyle, too--just to feel like there is something we can DO for our baby during this upheaval.

Meanwhile, Zyle is still fine, still oblivious to all this. He has started saying "Uh-oh" and "Duck." He still confuses us by one day liking beans & rice and the next day throwing it on the floor. He had his 18-month checkup a week ago, and he'll be 19 months the week before the surgery. I'm sufficiently reassured by all the good news that we have learned, but I'm still worried about my baby.