My sweet son is two months old today! Guess I better finish these hospital memoir posts. :) His two month old post shall wait until after his doctor appointment Thursday - that way I can include his measurements.
Sunday was a good day. Sunday was a terrible day. Sunday was one of the best days of my life. Sunday was one of the worst days of my life. (Um, Sunday definitely had post-partum hormones going on.)
The day started pretty good. I woke up around 1 and knew I was due for more medicine around 2:30 (blood pressure medicine, that is). I was hoping for more pain medicine as well. At that point, I'd been taking Motrin and Tylenol on alternating times. Also, the room was freezing. 2:30 rolled around. No nurse with medicine. 3:00 rolled around. Still no medicine. Finally at 3:30, I decided to ring for the nurse. Apparently, she'd been very busy as the hospital was experiencing a baby boom. SEVEN babies had been born in the last 8 hours. Now, this isn't a huge hospital. I think they're maxed out at about 20 new moms/laboring moms. When you think that usually ladies are in there for 3 days or so, that doesn't average out to 7 babies in one night. And the shift was barely half over! So, that was why my medicine was a little late. I told her I was freezing and also in a lot of pain. She suggested I take something stronger than Motrin with the Motrin - it was called dilaudid. She said since I hadn't been sleeping much, it would help me sleep. She also was finally able to take me off the iv of magnesium sulfate. I had been on it for about 55 hours! So I agreed. She brought me another warm blanket, and I slept for about 4 hours. :)
That morning, after I woke up, John decided to go to church. Normally, being alone wouldn't be so fun, but I had big plans for the morning.... very big plans. You see, now that I was off the mag iv, they could take out the catheter and I would be allowed to shower! I was quite excited at the prospect of getting clean!
Well, the shower didn't live up to my excitement. After being bedridden for about 60 hours, major surgery, and only having gotten up long enough to sit up for about 10 minutes, a shower is a lot of work! I felt like I was going to pass out by the time I was done. So after my shower, I took some time to rest from my shower. I also, sadly, could not find my mascara while getting ready (no worries! It would later turn up!)
But as soon as I had recovered from that exertion, I asked my nurse to go take me to see my sweet boy. Now 1 whole day old, he was even more handsome! And he was doing better, so he was no longer under the heat lamps. He could regulate his own temperature - go, Jeremiah! :)
|My handsome sweetie|
I still didn't have much stamina, so it wasn't long before I was back in my room in my bed. At that time, they also brought me a pump so I could start working on providing nutrition for him.
I was restless there. I tried sleeping and was a little successful. I tried watching tv. There was nothing on. I tried reading, but I was too tired.
Around lunchtime, John came back from church. He told me we were going to have some visitors. Before they arrived, we decided to go visit our sweet angel.
Around that time, I was officially switched from Labor and Delivery to Mother Baby. Usually you switch pretty much as you deliver, but because of my complications, I needed to remain a L&D patient a little longer.
|Loved seeing my two loves together!|
|Dy with Rhema|
The afternoon was fun, but tiring. I think that may have contributed to.... ahem..... the overabundance of emotion later. (Seriously. I loved seeing everyone, but my advice to anyone recovering from major surgery is to limit visitors at 1 day post-op. At one point, I had THIRTEEN visitors at once! Plus John. That's a lot. And even though they all weren't there the whole time, there was a lot of overlap and a lot of tiredness! I think someone was there for a solid 3 hours.)
That afternoon one of the nurses who had been in the Special Care unit to cover breaks decided to tell me that she didn't think Jeremiah was doing as well as a 36 week old baby should be doing. I was really sad. I thought he was doing so much better than the day before. But he still was not responding well to feedings and there was no way he could be discharged the way he was going.
Cue the tears from the exhausted mommy. I remember crying and crying to John about how I didn't want to go home without my baby. I only had 5 weeks before going back to work to spend with him. Why wasn't he doing better? I just wanted him to do better! I calmed down a little and then he left to go home for dinner. While he was there, I may have had another (okay fine - 3 more) breakdown. I even took out my computer to upload pictures to get my mind off of it. It didn't work. My mom tried calling 3 times (I was pretty sure John had told her about my breakdown) but I was too emotional too talk so I didn't answer. I even did some work related e-mails in an attempt to cheer myself up. Nothing worked. Finally after John got back, I called my mom back. I was right - she was worried about HER baby (me). I cried to her some more. Cried to John some more. And then we went back to see our son.
Around that time, it was a shift change, and my nurse changed again. My new nurse was named Carol. She was seriously a fantastic nurse. I loved her. She was so motherly and kind and I just felt so comfortable with her. She was expecting her first grandchild and so we talked about that, about our families, etc.
One thing she thought after reviewing my chart was that I needed more pain management. She was hopeful that would get my (still skyrocketing) blood pressure under better control. She pushed me to let them treat it how they thought best (I could have resisted, but it made sense. And I was ready to feel better.) So she started me on a regimen including narcotics in addition to the Tylenol Motrin combos I'd been doing since surgery. She said "Your body needs to heal. It can't heal if you're not sleeping and if you're not sleeping because you're in pain, you're really hurting yourself!" I have to say, I think she was right. I still didn't get a ton of sleep, but I did manage to fall asleep earlier and stay asleep a little longer.
Overall, it was a day of highs and lows. At the end of the day, my baby didn't get to come out of Special Care like I had hoped for much of the day. But at the end, we were all going to be okay.
Day 3 to come. :)