The strange sound of an alarm woke me up. I've been so used to the yelling of the baby getting us up on a morning, that for just a moment I thought I was dreaming. Then I remembered, today was the day we'd been waiting for and my other half was having surgery.
The sound of the alarm gave us half an hour to get out of the house and hit the road. I left the Poomonster asleep on the bed while I got dressed and packed his bag with his clothes and all the food and milk I'd prepped the night before. The poor dog was very confused by so much activity at such a disgusting hour and deservedly gave me a filthy look when I put her breakfast in her kennel and put her out for the day.
The car was loaded, toys were grabbed, and at the very last minute a sleeping baby was carried downstairs to be put in the car seat. Operation Minimal Disturbance was activated. Poomonster woke briefly and looked a bit confused but happily settled into his seat and before we knew it he was out like a light.
On arrival at the hospital, it was still dark and wet and everything loaded into the car had to be unloaded again and the baby (now not asleep and being very nosey) was transferred to his pram. As we sat waiting in reception Poomonster kept telling us how excited he was while we hid our nervousness and laughed with him.
After a short wait we were shown to D's room. As soon as we were in, it was a case of business as usual. Poomonster was laid on the bed clean nappy, clothes changed and toys given out. It was only 0730 at this point, and the beginning of a long day. Within 10 minutes a steady stream of professionals were in and out of the room and Poomonster delighted them all and made me so proud at how well he just went along with it all. Nothing much seems to faze him.
At 0845 D was taken to the anaesthetist and the long wait began. It was just me and the wee one in a hospital room. We took advantage of being alone and the quiet and he had a great feed and a lovely nap while I drank tea and wrote letters to friends. So rare to have the oportunity and I pounced on it.
Once awake we left the hospital to buy some juice for the patient and in search of somewhere with a highchair so Poomonster could have his breakfast. Half a bowl of porridge later and some toast I did a dash to get supplies and buy myself some lunch.
Back at the hospital, we had about half an hour to wait for the patient's return and the wee boy happily played on a blanket on the floor with his toys. All of a sudden it seemed I needed to clear everything up, and move things so that D's bed could be wheeled in.
The patient was back and the wee boy looked a bit confused but was soon gurgling away at his daddy and holding his fingers. I spent the next 3.5 hours in a cycle of playing with the baby, giving the patient water, playing with the baby etc....
I was really pleased at the breakthrough moment of Poomonster happily taking a bottle from me during the day. Pretty sure it worked this time because he was strapped in the pram and boob simply wasn't an option. Whatever the reason I was happy, he had lunch and pudding and plenty of milk in a very strange environment.
About half 3 we made a move and headed for home. The whole rigmarole of packing up everything was done again and kisses goodbye given. It felt strange leaving without D and even stranger walking in the house without him knowing that he wouldn't just be walking in later that night.
In the old days I used to really appreciate a few hours to myself but tonight it just felt strange. No rest allowed just yet though as Poo's evening meal needed to be made, given and his bedtime routine done. Dinner tonight for the wee man consisted of some asparagus and seafood sticks, some creamed asparagus and kiwi fruit to finish. Strange combo but he enjoyed everything so that's a success in my book.
With the little one finally down for bed I got on with the important job of ordering take away. As I opened the door to my delivery, the baby with his impeccable timing opened his mouth and screamed. Half an hour later I was eating my luke warm dinner. After only an hour staring at the TV, the early start and the prospect of another night of nightfeeds sent me up to bed.
I was awake at 10 to feed him. And again at 2. At that point my sniffling cold kicked in and I was wide awake.
Two hours later and I'm still not sleepy and suspect the wee one will wake within the next half hour anyway so what's the point in even trying?
Hopefully we'll get a couple of hours after the next feed and we can start tomorrow and whatever it brings.