Tuesday, November 11, 2014

It Takes a Village...

On the second day after surgery I was discharged from the hospital.

The car ride home was a special kind of hell. The 605 is a very bumpy freeway in certain areas, and even though my husband tried to avoid them or take them as slowly as possible, each one hurt like blue blazes. Also, the nausea that every nurse had asked me about while I was in the hospital kicked in the moment we exited the freeway.

Instead of choking down on normal food like I had planned (Orange Coast Memorial doesn't have the menu that Long Beach Memorial does) I spent the first day home praying I wouldn't be sick. Thankfully I wasn't.

Since I couldn't lift my son, my husband took the week of my surgery off. Having him at home to help out was a God send. He washed the bottles, made the formula, and fed Bug during those late night feelings when I couldn't keep my eyes open because of the Percocet. He took him to the doctors for his check ups, and he finally got to sit in on one of our son's occupational therapy appointments and meet his wonderful therapist.

Unfortunately, since my husband works for the city, he doesn't qualify for paid family leave, so he had to go back to work the following week.

Originally the plan had been that my mother in law would watch over me while my husband went to work - but that plan fell through before I even went under the knife. My mother in law had had a lumpectomy in mid September, but around the beginning of October the incision had become infected. She had to go through a second surgery to clean the wound, and was going to see a specialist every other day to have the wound treated. She's shown me it a couple of times and swears it doesn't hurt. I think she's lying.

My father in law usually went with her to her appointments, so relying on him was out of the question.

Thankfully my family only lives about 20 minutes away and they were more then willing to help. 

The first day my mom came over and fed the baby and changes his diapers while I sat in my recliner and dozed the morning and afternoon away on Percocet. Then the next day my aunt came over. Another day my oldest cousin stopped by.

When I wasn't sleeping off the pain killers, we chatted about stuff. My mom gave birth to me via c-section, and my aunt had three OBGYN surgeries within the space of a year, so they knew the pain I was going through. In addition to that my other aunt and my grandmother had had fibroids when I was young, and had surgeries to remove them.

Plus, it turned out that when I was a baby I suffered from severe constipation issues like what my baby boy is dealing with right now. So my mom and aunt were full of tips on how to handle that.

When the baby was sleeping, and we weren't chatting about stuff, I crocheted a lot. In quick succession I finished Bug's baby blanket (which is long enough to last him till he's six or seven), then I started and finished an owl hat, and, because Halloween was so close, I also made him a pumpkin hat.

Baby boy was less than impressed...

Eventually the pain from the surgery faded enough that I was able to stop taking Percocet, and I didn't even need to take prescription ibuprofen. However, I was still easily tired: I went out for lunch with friends the Sunday before Halloween, and I managed to make it through lunch, but I had to sit out on the wine tasting they went to afterwards (though, honestly, I am not a big fan of wine so I probably would've sat that out anyways). Then the following day I pushed myself way too much by walking down Seal Beach pier and around downtown. 

I was scolded by my doctor for that and since then I've been a lot more careful.

Two weeks after the surgery I was cleared to pick up my son again. As much as I enjoyed having my family come over to visit and help out, it was nice to be able to take care of my baby boy on my own once more.

No comments:

Post a Comment