After months and months of trying to get Abbie’s tear duct to open, Allie and I finally had to deal with the necessary idea that our daughter needed surgery. From what we understood, if we were to not operate, the clogged duct can lead to a wide-variety of sinus complications well into adulthood. The best time to operate is when the child is young. The operation is a minor and routine outpatient procedure, but it requires general anesthesia, and that is where we became concerned. There is a chance of death when anesthesia is used, and albeit the chance is extremely small, it is still a chance.
The day came yesterday. Allie and I packed Abbie in the car at 5:30 am after a night of zero-sleep, and drove to the outpatient center in Pasadena. We had to wait for two hours, and during that time my mind just wandered and wandered: Is this going to be the last time? Is that her last laugh? Her last hug?
At 7:30 we were asked to come into the pre-op room with Abbie, where the nurses assured us that she would be okay. Suddenly, they grabbed her, and whisked her out of the room. As we watched her being carried away, she looked so confused, but also curious – where am I going Mom and Dad? She didn’t cry, which made it more surreal.
That moment absolutely crushed us, on so many levels: What if something happens? Is she scared? Are the doctors competent? Is this really necessary? But I think it resonated more deeply. For us, this milestone marked the first time that Allie and I realized that our daughter is her own person, an individual human being—who, for the briefest amount of time, would have to go through the procedure alone. It reminded us of death and life and all that is in between.
It reminded us how precious the gift of life is, what a miracle it is.
Ten minutes later, they called us back, and all we heard was Abbie’s screaming, and I JUMPED! YEAH! She’s ALIVE! Don’t laugh – that is how I felt. Allison grabbed her into her arms and breastfed Abbie for what seemed like an eternity. And as everyone told us, we were in the car within the hour of her surgery.
It was routine. It was simple. But not for us.
It caused reflection, and later appreciation and gratitude. We have a healthy beautiful baby girl. Other parents are faced with much more difficult challenges than a clogged tear duct. It reminded us once again how precious and fleeting life can be, and is. We are thankful and respectful.
When Abbie cries and screams it always seems to get on my nerves a bit. When I heard her crying after her surgery, it was the most beautiful sound in the world. I’ll never let her cries bother me again, at least that is my goal. I am only human after all, lucky to be here in this miracle called life.
Thank you Aberdeen. Thank you Allison. You are my family and I love you!
by Brian
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