So I thought this whole being home thing would leave me plenty of time to blog. Not so. Every time I sit down to blog, a cute little baby beckons me. She was just passed out, drooling on my shirt, so I handed her to her daddy, and now she's awake. So which story do I start with? Let's start with the most traumatic.
Three weeks after Elina arrived I was back in the hospital. That horrible pain I had experienced during the pregnancy came back. And this time I couldn't blame it on the baby. In total the pain happened 4 times while I was pregnant and 3 times after she arrived. Some times the "episodes" would last only 30-45 min. Other times they would last a couple of hours. One night it lasted 4 hours and caused me to throw up twice before going away, Mason had to be on baby duty and feed her formula that night.
The next day, September 1st we were over at my parents house to celebrate my Brother in Law's birthday, and the pain came again. I ended up sending Mason home to feed our puppies and go to bed while I stayed there with Elina. My sister stayed too and took care of her while I was in too much pain to move. This time it lasted ALL night. Finally at 5am it eased up enough for me to fall asleep, or I was exhausted enough to pass out.
I was finally convinced to call my doctor, who happened to be out of the office for two weeks. The other doctor in the office told me to call my internist (my what?). If I didn't have an internist then I should go to the ER. So my Dad and I hopped into my car and drove off to the hospital where Mason met up with us. And we waited, and waited, and waited. Finally it was my turn to go into the room and put on the gown, where we waited, and waited, and waited. I was told I couldn't keep my bra on even though I was leaking like crazy. Talk about embarrassing. It became a game of mine to see how long it took each person who came into my room to look at the giant wet spots on my gown. Finally, I was wheeled away to get an ultrasound to see if I had gall stones. I was sure I didn't. I'm not the type of person who gets stones. Turns out, I had stones.
By the time I finally got to my room, and they brought me a pump, it had been more then 24 hours since I had fed Elina. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything the first day, not even ice chips, and I wasn't allowed to eat anything for the rest of my stay there. There are a few things that you need in order to produce milk, food, water and a baby. I had none of those. My baby did come and visit me those three days, but I still missed her so. Finally on Saturday I had my surgery. They removed my gallbladder and gave me five new scars in it's place. I went home that afternoon. I tried to get my milk back, but it just didn't happen. If I had to leave the house at all, it was a major set back in any progress that I had made. Eventually I just had to give up.
I was prepared to not be able to nurse in the beginning. I wasn't ready to be successful at it, only to have it taken away from me 3 short weeks later. I still have a strong, healthy baby and no more severe abdominal and back pain. Which makes it a whole lot easier to take care of that sweet baby. Especially since her 8 week old self rolled over onto her back yesterday. I'm going to have my hands full, aren't I?
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