As we drove to the doctor to have the circumcision done, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for bub in the back seat, blissfully unaware of what was to come.
We were the first appointment for the day. The first thing they did was apply a numbing cream on bub’s penis. We then had to wait an hour while this worked. We were both surprised at how many babies were arriving to have the snip also. The hospital had made out like it was an old barbaric thing to do and that no one does it any more. But I could see for myself that plenty of people were doing it. I made a joke to hubby as I watched more babies come in. “I dare you to ask someone if their baby is a boy or a girl.” All I got was a token smile from hubby. Come on, that was funny!
When the hour had passed they were ready for bub. They told us that we could either be present or not for the procedure, it was our choice. We both chose to stay. How could I leave poor bub to go through this alone? I’d feel way too mean. The doctor started doing his thing with his assistant on his right. From where I was I couldn’t see what was happening. I could just see bubs face. It wasn’t long before he started to cry. The crying got worse. And worse. And worse. I started hearing cries that I had not yet heard. It was horrible watching him scream like that. At this point, the stupid assistant lady turned around and said to me “This is hurting him you know.” No, really? Idiot. I felt like punching her in the face. I looked to my left where hubby was standing. He had his sunnies on. I knew what this meant. He was crying. And it was confirmed when I saw him wipe a tear away that slipped out from under his sunnies. I wondered what our kids would think of our differences when they’re old enough to understand. You know, when they are sad and need comfort, will they go to dad? And when they’re in need of practical help in their life will they come to me? Will they think it’s weird that they don’t have stereotypical parents? Although does that really exist anymore? My thoughts were then interrupted.
“Almost done,” the doctor said as bub continued to scream. I may not be crying like hubby, but I still found this quite heart wrenching and torturous to watch. Long term gain, long term gain, I kept telling myself.
I could see the doctor was wrapping up and knew that before either of us could pick him up in an attempt to comfort him, he would need a nappy. I grabbed one from my bag as hubby pushed his way to bub. No one was going to stop him from picking bub up the second he could. “You’ll need this,” I said as I handed him the nappy. He was in a bit of a fluster and I think would have just picked him up without a nappy if I hadn’t handed him one.
Meanwhile, I left the room so I could go out to the waiting room to get ready to breastfeed, as they wanted to bring the next baby in. Just as I was ready, hubby arrived and put him straight on my boob. Bub settled right down. He fed for about 20 minutes and then fell asleep, at which point I think we both breathed a sigh of relief.
We had to wait around for another hour as the doctor needed to check to see if there was excessive bleeding. Bub woke up when this check was happening. It was all good though, so we went home. The ride home was not pleasant as bub cried most of the way. This was unusual because you could almost guarantee he would sleep when you put him in the car. He cried a lot when we got home too. Hubby had to go back to work so I was left alone with a very unhappy baby. I did all that I could to comfort him. Feed him, cuddle him, bounce him, all the while being careful how I handled him so as not to add more pain to the ‘area’. Surprisingly it was only about half an hour of this and he fell asleep.
He was a bit grizzly when he woke up but he wasn’t screaming or crying or anything like that. We showered him and got him ready for bed. It was a long night, because he woke up every hour. Oh that was painful – for us both I guess. Poor little guy was obviously out of sorts and needed some comfort. Each night after that got better though and within 48 hours he appeared to be back to normal.
I took him back one week later to have the final check and all was good. With the next kid, I think I’d have it done as close to birth as possible. Otherwise, I wouldn’t change a thing. Except maybe I would take out the assistant lady for real. :)
We were the first appointment for the day. The first thing they did was apply a numbing cream on bub’s penis. We then had to wait an hour while this worked. We were both surprised at how many babies were arriving to have the snip also. The hospital had made out like it was an old barbaric thing to do and that no one does it any more. But I could see for myself that plenty of people were doing it. I made a joke to hubby as I watched more babies come in. “I dare you to ask someone if their baby is a boy or a girl.” All I got was a token smile from hubby. Come on, that was funny!
When the hour had passed they were ready for bub. They told us that we could either be present or not for the procedure, it was our choice. We both chose to stay. How could I leave poor bub to go through this alone? I’d feel way too mean. The doctor started doing his thing with his assistant on his right. From where I was I couldn’t see what was happening. I could just see bubs face. It wasn’t long before he started to cry. The crying got worse. And worse. And worse. I started hearing cries that I had not yet heard. It was horrible watching him scream like that. At this point, the stupid assistant lady turned around and said to me “This is hurting him you know.” No, really? Idiot. I felt like punching her in the face. I looked to my left where hubby was standing. He had his sunnies on. I knew what this meant. He was crying. And it was confirmed when I saw him wipe a tear away that slipped out from under his sunnies. I wondered what our kids would think of our differences when they’re old enough to understand. You know, when they are sad and need comfort, will they go to dad? And when they’re in need of practical help in their life will they come to me? Will they think it’s weird that they don’t have stereotypical parents? Although does that really exist anymore? My thoughts were then interrupted.
“Almost done,” the doctor said as bub continued to scream. I may not be crying like hubby, but I still found this quite heart wrenching and torturous to watch. Long term gain, long term gain, I kept telling myself.
I could see the doctor was wrapping up and knew that before either of us could pick him up in an attempt to comfort him, he would need a nappy. I grabbed one from my bag as hubby pushed his way to bub. No one was going to stop him from picking bub up the second he could. “You’ll need this,” I said as I handed him the nappy. He was in a bit of a fluster and I think would have just picked him up without a nappy if I hadn’t handed him one.
Meanwhile, I left the room so I could go out to the waiting room to get ready to breastfeed, as they wanted to bring the next baby in. Just as I was ready, hubby arrived and put him straight on my boob. Bub settled right down. He fed for about 20 minutes and then fell asleep, at which point I think we both breathed a sigh of relief.
We had to wait around for another hour as the doctor needed to check to see if there was excessive bleeding. Bub woke up when this check was happening. It was all good though, so we went home. The ride home was not pleasant as bub cried most of the way. This was unusual because you could almost guarantee he would sleep when you put him in the car. He cried a lot when we got home too. Hubby had to go back to work so I was left alone with a very unhappy baby. I did all that I could to comfort him. Feed him, cuddle him, bounce him, all the while being careful how I handled him so as not to add more pain to the ‘area’. Surprisingly it was only about half an hour of this and he fell asleep.
He was a bit grizzly when he woke up but he wasn’t screaming or crying or anything like that. We showered him and got him ready for bed. It was a long night, because he woke up every hour. Oh that was painful – for us both I guess. Poor little guy was obviously out of sorts and needed some comfort. Each night after that got better though and within 48 hours he appeared to be back to normal.
I took him back one week later to have the final check and all was good. With the next kid, I think I’d have it done as close to birth as possible. Otherwise, I wouldn’t change a thing. Except maybe I would take out the assistant lady for real. :)
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