On Friday we went back to Dr. Dye for him to check Jett's ears. He checked and decided that Monday morning would be a great time for Jett to have tubes. While all the grandparents freaked out and worried, I just had a peace about the decision. When Dr. Dye said the sound waves they tested in his ears hit a brick wall of fluid, I just knew it was for the best.
Monday morning was rough. I fed him about 11:30 since he couldn't eat after midnight. And true to Jett form at 12:07 he woke up ready to nurse. And when I tried to console him, he had none of it. He screamed pretty much from then until 2:30 when he gave it up and finally went to sleep. I sang every hymn I could think of, both of his theme songs, and every soothing Christmas Carol. He crawled into the dark kitchen three times and all but tore my shirt from my body trying to let me know it was time to feed him. Cullen slept through the whole thing. At 5:00 we woke him up, dressed him in separates (which I think is awful to do a child) and took him to Oxford. He played in the waiting room and made it fine. They took him back and the nurse called him a pretty girl. I said he was a pretty boy... Dr. Dye's surgical nurse came out to greet me, and it was my friend Brooke's mom. We walked out to the waiting room and ten minutes later Dr. Dye was out there telling us how well he did.
After two long naps that afternoon, he was up moving around and playing in the kitchen. Back in his one piece outfits that apparently after one wear is too little. Glad that is behind us and Boy Blue is feeling better. Within three hours of being home he was saying Mama....music to my ears.