Step by step guide: A mother walking her baby to the OR

Entering the surgical ward is the most nerve wracking moment for me.

This is how it works...

First, she gets unhooked from everything in and on her body. I quickly take advantage of those moments of her freedom... I hold her, cuddle her, kiss her. It's so easy without all the wires. It's worry free. I'm not afraid I will pull something and cause her pain. I don't have to handle entangled cables or unwrap her IV tubes.

Then we put her in a pram hundreds of babies used before her. I try to cover it with a clean cotton cloth. Put a nice blanket over her. But that does not help with the squeaking tires rolling on the hospital vinyl floor. I can barely turn the pram left and right. The system to move the wheels when changing direction broke probably years ago. But she seems to like the experience.

As we move through the hallways and descend with an elevator, my heart sinks with the speed of changing floors. Once in the basement; or what feels like a basement, we are at the surgical ward. We cannot go further than the red line. We wait for an anaesthesiologist to come and take her to the operating theater.

I clench my teeth. I am strong for her. I have to be. She's clueless. She'll cry if I cry. I think.

I kiss her. I tell her to be strong. I tell her everything will be ok. But I don't believe it. It might not be. So I hope.

They take her. She cries. A stranger is holding her, carrying her into the unknown, leaving me behind.

I say a prayer. I cry.

She is not even six months old.

This is her third time down. And it will not be the last.