As most of you know, Coco went in for tubes a few weeks back. As I mentioned, Coco took it better than Mommy did. But what I discovered during the whole process was a bit disconcerting.
After they took Cora away for the procedure, I was told I could wait in the area outside of the recovery rooms until a nurse came to get me. I was told that it would only be about 5 or 10 minutes for the entire procedure. So, I paced, tried leafing through a magazine, tried to think of some conversation to have with Hubby, and when all else failed, stalked the recovery room door. It had a small rectangular pane of glass in the door, but I couldn't see much.
Hubby, knowing better than to try and get me to sit down, just came and stood quietly next to me. As we were waiting I heard that familiar wail. I heard Cora crying. To say it about broke my heart would be an understatement. It was all I could do to keep from ripping open the door I was pressed against and rushing in to hold her. Don't get me wrong, I can handle my child crying. As a mother of a colicky baby I learned it early just so I could survive. But I found that I couldn't handle it when I wasn't there with her. It was one thing if she was upset but at least knew her Mommy was there. It was quite another for her to be groggy, scared and alone in a strange place.
Just as I had about reached my limit (which is apparently about 10 seconds) a nurse's face popped into the glass. She warily opened the door and said "are you Cora's parents". I quickly confirmed we were and about pushed her over getting in the door. "She's just coming out of the surgery suite now" said the nurse. Just then a door at the other end of the room opened and a lady came in holding my little Coco - who was too groggy yet to realize she was upset and so was silent.
Oh. Hmmmm. So it had not been Cora after all who had been crying. Looking around I saw a little tow-headed boy sitting with his mother. He was the source of the tears. At the time I was so relieved that Cora wasn't upset that I didn't give it much thought. But in the days after it has been nagging at the back of my brain. Isn't it supposed to be mammalian? Darwinian? Aren't we supposed to instinctively know the cry of our offspring? What does that say about me as a mother if I didn't?
I don't dwell on it for hours, or devote time to thinking about it everyday. I haven't even Googled it (and for those of you who know me you realize that is something - I have many medical and psychiatric degrees from Google U). But I do wonder about it from time to time. Does this make me a bad mom? I guess when I meet Darwin someday, I'll have to ask him.
