It’s not often that a five month old blows your mind, but when said five month old has survived a premature birth, grade four brain bleed, enlarged ventricles, pneumothorax, chest tube, transfusions, and more within weeks of being born, it really shouldn’t surprise me.
Today, we were back at Sick Kids for Ella’s first MRI. Finding out only days ago that she couldn’t eat past 4:30 AM and that she would be under anesthesia, I was feeling anxious.
After I changed Ella into a teeny tiny hospital gown, we were brought into a room filled with machines that immediately took me back to our NICU days. I answered question after question of her medical history that is longer than my own, at 30 years old.
I cuddled Miss Ella and sang her to sleep before she had to go under anesthesia. I liked the idea that during her MRI she imagined me singing to her. I watched as two nurses wrapped my baby girl into blankets and the doctor put her under. Immediately, they asked me to leave, and blinking back tears, I left her in the capable hands of Sick Kids’ staff.
I wandered upstairs and grabbed Starbucks, perused the store, and worried for the hour she’d be having her MRI. When I thought it had been long enough, I headed back to my baby girl.
Finally, they called me in and her nurse met me at the door with my little one in her arms, wrapped up in her blankets, still slightly out of it, but snuggled right into me, just where she belongs. Her nurse told me she didn’t cry or fuss, and barely flinched when her IV came out. Of course, Ella handles things with a smile and a giggle, proving she’s tougher than even her father who can’t stand needles and IVs.
We have such a long road ahead of us and knowing that Ella has already handled so much with grace gives me the strength for the future, including our upcoming doctor’s appointment for the MRI results.