The One Where I Cried At The Hospital - And Not For the Reason You Think

So, surgery for James' cleft was less than 2 hours.  We were told that once they were done, the wake up process would begin, and to expect another 45 minutes to pass before we could see him.

My son was awake 10 minutes after the procedure ended.  We were called 5 minutes after he woke up.  And we were there in front of him 5 minutes after that call.

And he had 4 nurses cooing over him as he smiled and showed them his big brown eyes, never crying, just snuggling the person holding him.

I really think they hoped we were going to be delayed a bit longer.

As soon as we had the green light we threw together a bottle and fed him.  He scarfed down 8 ounces before anyone could blink, and that apparently was a very good thing.

We sat in recovery for about 30 minutes before a crib was brought to his room and we were escorted up.

I need to pause the story to explain that we had confirmed at LEAST 5 TIMES about the arrangements.  They had confirmed here at the clinic that we would both be able to spend the night with him, there would be a chair for me and a pull out bed from the couch in the room for my husband so our little family could be together.

I really cannot stress how many times I asked about sleeping arrangements, right up until the week before at the last clinic we attended.  Again and again they confirmed the arrangements.

Can you imagine my surprise when our escort walked us into a semi-private room, where a curtain separated my son from another child, and there was one reclining chair and 2 regular chairs to sit in, and no other space??

The person who walked us up left before I could say a word.  None of us (myself, A, and James' great-grandparents) had eaten since before 7 that morning, and it was now after 2.  I sent them all off to get lunch as I wanted to stay with James.

And that's when Brittany walked.

She was the first of the nurses, and when I asked if we were in the right room she looked at me as if I was nuts.  I explained the situation, what we had been told, and then asked what had happened.

And this is here she blew me off.

Apparently we were misinformed, there were no private rooms for "cleft" kids as they are not critical, and the policy is that only 1 parent may stay with the child overnight.  But, she said, she'd see if the floor supervisor would be able to help us.

We never saw her again. 

When A came back 10 minutes later, I burst into tears.  I was exhausted.  This was not what we had been told, and we had never been apart from James overnight.  My poor husband looked heartbroken because he couldn't do anything for me, and didn't know what to say to fix it.

Once I'd calmed down, and the rest of the family came up, we talked about everything and played with James.

And slowly, those tears turned into a bit of anger...