Jasi has fallen asleep in his stroller in the waiting room. We head upstairs to surgery & are torn about whether to wake him up. Our fantasy is that he will go from natural sleep to drug-induced sleep.
He ends up waking up as the mask is descending over his face, panicking until he is once again sleeping in seconds that seem like centuries.
When Jasi awakes in recovery, he is furious, unconsolable, lashing out, fighting to defend himself. It is painful and heartbreaking to watch.
Tessie & I are attempting to calm him, each in our own way. We do not do a good job taking turns, both of us struggling to reach him but failing - and neither of us want to accept failure today.
The good news: Jasi can go home. The bad news: we don't have a ride. I didn't think farther then making it to the hospital before public transportation opens this morning. I came prepared to spend the night, as they instructed.
I did not come prepared to get a drugged, incensed, crying baby home across the bay.
Our Goddess Elana returns once more from Berkeley to pick us up and drop us at home. The minute Jasi hits our bed, he collapses into a deep sleep.
When Jasi wakes several hours later, he is ready to eat, to play, to cautiously smile!