Last month I opened up about some of the struggles we’d been having with our youngest in a post titled 817 nights of interrupted sleep. I told you Noah’s adenoids were blocking 80% of his nasal passage, making it difficult for him to breathe at night – which kept us up most of the night, every night – and that he was scheduled for surgery to remove them.
The day of Noah’s adenoidectomy we were reminded it could take up to two months to really know if the surgery had done it’s job, and before we could actually proceed with a next step if there needed to be one. We held our breath and nodded, hoping, praying that this surgery would mark the end of a very tiring and stressful season in our lives with something as simple and precious as a night of sleep.
In the two weeks immediately following surgery, Noah woke no more than 4-5 times a night. Not perfect results, but immeasurably better than the 8-9 times a night we had come to dread. The last Saturday night to Sunday of June *to our delight* he woke only once – something that had happened only one other time in his entire life at three months old. For the last two weeks we’ve been woken up between 2 and 3 times a night or less.
And we’re only half-way to the “new normal” doctors told us about.
I’m not sure I can really express to you how exciting this is via blog – but I’ll try.
** Go ahead and picture me near hysterical with excitement. **
Noah is sleeping so much better at night he’s finally dreaming. And it must be fabulous for him, because he’s active and talking in his sleep along with whatever is playing on the screen in his little brain.
Last week we dropped his afternoon nap which means no more hour and a half long bedtime routines, no more creeping out of the bedroom like a cirque de solei performer, and no more crazy for big brother (who really enjoys some quiet time in his room before going to bed at night).
We used to live in a state of lock-down after bedtime, but Noah’s sleeping longer and deeper between nighttime wakings, which means Momma gets some down time in the evening and can actually work or blog or talk on the phone without whispering to the person on the other end of the line.
We wake up in the morning – later than we have in years – with smiles on our faces, happy to see one another because we’ve all had a decent nights’ rest.
The other day I actually reached for a glass of water before filling my coffee mug in the morning – because. I. could.
We can’t thank God enough for the changes we’ve seen in Noah – the changes we’ve experienced in our whole family – because of this simple surgical procedure.
It’s true, Noah hasn’t slept all the way through the night yet, but the day is coming. I can see it – like the light they always talk about at the end of the tunnel. It’s there, and as the tunnel walls fall wider and wider apart, it’s getting brighter every. single. day.
We are beyond thankful.