Well. Today is Sunday. I’ve just given you a big feed and you are grunting away in your cot. We’re hoping you’ll have a sleep, but you seem to be resisting. I can’t come and get you as I’m lying on the day-bed, foot up on a pile of pillows. I have a big fat ankle underneath a leg that is in plaster. The ankle is now offically reconstructed. Despite wishing on Friday that I could go back and undo the decision to have it done, its all ok. I got the ankle operated on last Thursday, and we came home on Friday. Right now I can make it to the bathroom and managed to mostly shower myself this morning, but that is the extent of my mobility. I’ve got crutches which I’m still learning how to use (I’m giving myself gold stars for finally after three days having come up with a way of using them to get up from the toilet – that was tough before). So you’re relying on your dad for all assistance with moving and care. Apart from the feeding. You stilll come visit me for that. And you do come and play with me: sitting on my tum and doing some talking a few times a day.
So. Thursday went pretty well overall. You and your dad came in with me to the hospital at an ungodly hour in the morning, then we waited for hours as I was the last operation on the morning’s surgery list. You had a good feed and were happily sleeping in your pram when I got put into the wheelchair & wheeled off down into the basement of the hospital for the surgery. I was a bit nervous, but feeling ok about it. That was until I was sitting by myself in my wheelchair in the pre-op area when I heard the screams and cries of a small boy. I just lost it at that point and started bawling. Good timing as the anaethetist came to put in my canula at that point. She explained that where I was was connected to the recovery room, so the little boy was just waking up from having his adenoids out. And wanted his mum. It was horrible to listen to. I felt so sorry for the kid.
The surgery itself was fine. I had a spinal anasthesia so that I could breastfeed you straight away, so I was awake for the operation. I had a mild sedative to keep me calm and just chatted with the anaethetist and the anaethestic nurse while the surgeons did my ankle behind a sheet. While I was getting operated on, your dad took you for a walk outside. I had expressed some breastmilk for you and he had just taken you to your grandad’s office and was going to heat it up when the nurse called him to say I was back in my bed on the ward. So you came and found me and immediately had a great big feed and a cuddle.
You and your dad then stayed with me for the rest of the day, going home at around 7pm after I’d given you two huge night feeds. It was hard to see you go home with your dad: I’d not spent a night apart from you since you were born. I cried a little bit.
Your dad tells me that you were very well behaved at home. He gave you your nightly bath, then tried to give you another feed with some expressed breastmilk from a bottle. Apparently you looked very confused about the whole thing, especially when you tasted the milk from the bottle. And you weren’t really into it, I think you only managed a few sucks. But you slept right through the night as normal anyways. He got up after five in the morning and heated you some more breastmilk, and when you woke you were still a little confused by it all, but since you were hungry you had about 80ml. Enough to keep you going for a while.
I had a bit of a shocking night in the hospital myself, the lady in the bed beside me fell out of her bed at 10pm and there were nurses going back and forth for the next four hours. Then there were the normal checks every hour. I woke at 5 am with the sun. Ready to go home. I called your dad at 6:30 to check what time you were coming in, to see if I should express to empty my very full boobs. Thankfully, he was already getting ready, and you guys arrived at just after 7. Your Aunt Reeg brought you in while your dad went to park the car. I gave you a big feed and you seemed happy. A few hours later we were able to get out and go home. Yay. Me wobbling on my new crutches.
SO.. All in all, it worked out well. I was really nervous about the whole thing. It was a bit more difficult than expected as the hospital was really not very baby-friendly, and sharing a room with four people wasn’t great with you, but you were really well-behaved and so it was bearable. And most important, you and I are both ok.
Since then you’ve been looked after by your Dad and Aunt R, and have been loving all the attention from family who have dropped by to see us. I think you’re a little grumpy at me for not picking you up or playing with you quite as much as normal (well, maybe confused rather than grumpy). But you’re generally still your smiling little self.
ps. and you seemed to sense that I was upset in the hospital when I was in a bit of pain post-op, and you were so good about it. And again when we got some bad news on Friday. Big hugs. thank-you.
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