Today marks one week post-op for Little Man; he is doing remarkably well. He’s a champ… except at night. Handsome Husband and I have accepted that we may never sleep again.
No worries, though, I’ve decided to stop being a martyr and just drink my fully caffeinated coffee each morning, without remorse, like a good thirty-something mother of a toddler.
This morning Little Man woke without a voice, hoarse from all of the wailing he did in the wee hours. Our biggest struggle has been in discerning what is treatable discomfort from his surgical sites, and what are night terrors. Prior to surgery, Little Man suffered regular, inconsolable episodes of nightmare-like behavior during each transition between sleep cycles. His night-terrors were pretty textbook, identical to those our oldest daughter suffered around the same age. A fellow adoptive mom had a physician tell her that these are quite common among adoptive children, as they can be triggered by extreme growth spurts. It’s no surprise that with regular activity, and diets far superior to those often found in overseas orphanages, children literally grow leaps and bounds after being placed in their forever families.
The most difficult part of managing Little Man’s pain has been doing so with limited communication. He doesn’t know why he hurts, and even if he does he doesn’t know how to tell us. It simply breaks my heart to know that he underwent similar surgical & recovery pain without the comfort of doting parents when his cleft lip repair was completed in China.