"We believe that our son is destined for greatness!"

This is the first thing Sam said when we met our surgeon, Dr. Craig Hobar. I guess we had in mind that we were going to interview him to make sure he was qualified to fix our son's lip. Little did we know that he is one of the best in the country. Take a look at his website for the foundation he created. There are some amazing before and after photos.

We went in for a long-awaited surgery on Thursday September 1. The original date was July 21, but Isaac came down with a runny nose that made him just sick enough that the surgery had to be postponed six weeks. Over the past six weeks, I have waited very IM-patiently, worried that Isaac would get sick again, worried that our surgeon would come down with the mumps or get in an accident, worried that the day would never come . . .

But the day came. The night before, Sam woke up at 1 am to give him his last few sips of formula. I got up at 3 am to give him his last few sips of breastmilk. We all got up at 5 am to head over to Medical City Children's Hospital. Sam asked me if I was nervous. Maybe I should have been--but I wasn't. I was more grateful than anything. Grateful that our son didn't need anything more than elective cosmetic surgery. Grateful that we had the means to provide such a surgery for him. Grateful that we live in a country where we have state-of-the-art equipment and talented, caring doctors who can work modern-day miracles.

When we got to the hospital, I became even more grateful. As we waited in the pre-op room, there were two other families there with children who were facing much more serious surgeries than we. Thanks to our middle-of-the-night feedings, Isaac wasn't hungry, and he even slept while we waited for awhile. He charmed the nurses with his smile. Then they wheeled him away . . . Sam and I got some breakfast and took a nap in the car.

Just before surgery with Dr. Hobar

Um, one of my worst mommy moments comes next . . . We got a phone call as we were headed back into the hospital. Sam took the call, but the reception wasn't good. He thought they said Isaac was in the recovery room, but it didn't sound too urgent, and the person on the other end was breaking up. We made our way back up to the surgery waiting room, but got lost, took a major detour on the elevator, stopped to ask for directions, then hung out in the waiting room watching "Good Morning Texas." Meanwhile, our son had woken up and was crying; Can you believe--I wasn't there for the wake-up? (What kind of mommy am I?!)

Finally, we were reunited with our son. I'm not sure what I was expecting to see when he came out of surgery . . . I guess I didn't think about it! But what I saw was blood and stitches--and tears. And a swollen little face that looked up at me as if to say, Why did you let this happen to me?

The good news was that the surgery went great. We spent the rest of the afternoon comforting our crying child, feeding him through a syringe, and trying to keep him from touching his face. Little sweetheart. We hope he recovers quickly.