I need to write about my amazing little boy.

He had surgery yesterday, to remove an extra digit on his hand. He did so well, and was so brave.

It ran 2 hours late, he hadn’t eaten since the night before. Did he whine or cry? Nope. He played with toys, sat on my lap, made his own fun.

When it was time to hand him off to the surgeon, I gave him a squeeze, told him I’d see him in a little while. He smiled at me, and didn’t fuss at all when they took him away.

I bit my nails and freaked out inside my head during. Lucky for me, and him, it was an easy surgery, much easier than anticipated, and only took half an hour. There was another half hour of waiting while he woke up til we could see him.

I walked as fast as I possibly could down the hallway, and what do I find? My beautiful boy sitting in a hospital bed, smiling, and trying to devise a way to escape the bed. I picked him up, gave him 2 cups of juice, he was so thirsty. Once the anesthesia wore off completely, he started crying, latched onto me, and barely let go so I could get him dressed. But, once we were outside the hospital, he was fine.

We took him for a cheeseburger, and he was his normal self. He napped a bit on the long drive home, had a pizza dinner, and went to bed. I’m leaving out where he woke up at 1am and didn’t go back to bed til 330am. Just normal anesthesia stuff. We are both tired today.

I’m so proud of him. My fearless wonderful boy.

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