The Great Mom Debate: Pancakes and surgery

I have been cursed with gift of over analyzing everything I come in contact with. Today was no exception. In fact today was an extreme case of hyper-analyzing on my part. I really longed to sleep in this morning even though I knew it wouldn't happen and couldn't happen. There is a wonderful thing about the older kid's bedroom door; it makes an obnoxious sound when opened. Isaac being very handy could fix this problem but I have told him to leave it for now. The reason is because I know the moment any one of them leave their room. This door is my alarm clock.

7:30 this morning I hear their door burst open and the pitter patter of three pairs of feet tromping down the stairs. I grumbled a bit and turned over. "You better get them." Isaac says as he drifts back to sleep. I resist the urge to throw my pillow at him and then hear a CRASH. I propel myself out of bed suddenly motivated by the terror being afflicted upon my house and the anxiety over the magnitude of work my short delay in bed just caused.

I make it to the kitchen and find metal bowls on the floor, measuring cups dispersed in various locations. Xander with eggs in hand trying to figure out which bowl he should crack them into. Jadzia was happily hitting a spoon loudly against one of the bowls as though she was beating invisible contents and Landon was perched on top of the counter trying to reach the flour. Man those boogers are fast I thought and then turned my mind to the obvious. "What are you doing?" Xander started his tone. You know the almost whining, mommy this is all for you so we can't possibly be in trouble tone. "We are making you pancakes because we love you." "We love you!" Jadzia echoed in her usual repeat everything the boys say manner. Landon chimed in, "We wanted it to be a surprise so you just go put your feet up and we'll get right to work."

Several thoughts now spiraled through my head as I wondered how to handle this. I could go crazy and start lecturing them about not messing with kitchen items without mommy present. But they were looking at me so very pleased with themselves over their thoughtfulness. If I yell I will break their spirit if I let it go I will have eggs and flour everywhere on a regular basis. Bad mom, good mom which way do I go...

Finally I realized we had no syrup and I found my escape."But babies, we're out of syrup so why don't we wait on the pancakes. I love how you thought about me but next time you really want to surprise mommy bring daddy in on it as well."

It seemed to work because the next words out of Xander's mouth were. "I'm hungry can you fix me toast now?" On that note I took over the breakfast making and my mom mind settled down a bit. That was until we started school. I was trying to show Landon how to write the number 2 which I now know is very complex. After his tenth try and getting more mad at himself I started to doubt my ability and I started to yell at myself. Don't let him see you doubt yourself he'll manifest it on himself and have self confidence issues into adulthood. Finally I slapped myself back to reality. Quit being ridiculous you are not going to damage him by doubting you can teach him how to write the number 2 and with that I decided it was time for a break. Besides his twos didn't look half bad anyway.During the break Xander wanted to go outside. I told him just for a minute to get fresh air since it had been raining all morning and it could start again at any moment. He said "Don't worry, mom. My dragon cape makes me invisible to the lasting side effects of rain."
After lunch it was time for me to take Ronan to his 15 month check-up. I was quite tempted to ask Isaac to take him because I was seriously exhausted from dealing with Ronan's asthma the night before. But my obsessive need to know everything about my kids took over. Isaac is an awesome husband and father but the man just doesn't know how to share details about doctor appointments.

Based on past experience this is how our post check-up conversation would have gone. Me: "How was it?" Isaac: "Fine." "Well what did the doctor say." "She said he was fine." "Ok how much did he weigh?" "umm somewhere between 20 or 30 I don't remember." "Do you remember what percentiles he's in?" "Somewhere between 0 and 100." "Do you remember anything?" "yeah, I told you I remember he's fine."
But I can't take it I have to know every detail of what the doctor said and where he's located on the charts so I ignore the exhaustion and go. Sometimes I could kick myself for my stubbornness.

We get there and find out Ronan is 22lbs 9 oz and 30 in. long which puts him in the 20 percentile for both. Then she asks the dreaded question "So how is that reflux medicine working? Is he better?" My heart sinks. Can't I just pretend it works? with a sigh I admit "Not really. He's still coughing and crying during most meals." She looks over the GI doctor's notes. "Well he'll probably need that surgery then but they'll do the PH test first to make sure." "You mean the one where they put a tube in his nose and I somehow have to keep it in place for 24 hours." "Yes, that's the one." Then she tells me their fridge is broken and I have to make a trip to the public health department for his shots.
I get home and I think about a lot. The great mom debate starts for the third time today. I could just not call the GI doctor on Thursday or I could call and tell him the medicine is fine write that new prescription. Then I want to beat some sense into myself. You know you'd be lying. But then he'll have to have that test and it'll probably indicate surgery. You heard Dr. Shash it may be what he needs or he could damage his lungs for life by refluxing and aspirating stomach acid.

Dr. Shash had helped me through Landon's severe allergic reaction to his DTP shot as a baby. Had called me on Christmas Eve night one year just to make sure Xander's severe virus wasn't getting the better of him, she had helped me through Jadzia's kidney problems and got us in on a moments notice when I called her concerned Inara's jaundice levels were spiking. And most dear to me she had hugged me and let me cry on her shoulder when we discussed the shock of Ronan's trisomy 21 diagnosis. She'd been a medical guardian for my kids from the moment I first became a parent. Why would I doubt her now? She'd never let me down, not once. This wasn't a case of mom knew better than doctor either. This was a case of mom not wanting doctor to be right. Not wanting to put her son through more pain. Not wanting to put herself through more pain. What if something goes wrong? Then I remembered the words of my wise best friend.

She said. "Ang, all you can do is the best you have with what you know. In the end if it doesn't turn out the way you'd hoped all you can do is know you honestly tried to do what was in your child's best interest."

So I will call his GI doctor on Thursday and tell him the medicine didn't work. That he still cries when he eats and coughs for hours after eating. That he still can't eat anything more than applesauce consistency other than the occasional cheerios or broken up cookie. And it stinks that I have to but I guess I just need to grow a tougher skin.

From the simplicity of pancakes to the complex dilemma of major abdominal surgery the Great mom debate brews in my head. Good mom, bad mom which will it be. Perhaps a human mom?