Confession about recovery

Having a baby is hard work.  I knew it wouldn't be a cake walk but I didn't expect it to be that hard.  You bleed a lot.... like 9 months worth of no bleeding all in a few weeks.  You are afraid to go to the bathroom.  And you are so unbelievably tired.  I thought it was a joke when people said babies didn't sleep.... well, it isn't a joke.

My typical night looked like this:
Pull myself up the stairs (literally since I had a c-section)
Scooch back in bed.
Wake to feed Jack (scooching to get him out of the bassinet and just sitting right there).
Feed him for an hour, scooch back.
Repeat thirty-sixty minutes later.

By around 3 AM I would hurt too much to scooch anymore and Andrew would have to wake up and hand me Jack. 

I also re- opened part of my incision about 3 weeks out.  My staples had been removed and my stitches had dissolved so I thought I was okay to wear normal underwear again (as in: not granny panties).  I was wrong.  The bow on my underwear opened my incision again.  Now that I can see my incision again its pretty clear that at some point I opened it on the left side as well since the scar is much larger there.

It was exhausting.  I was a zombie.  But now, 4 months later, I kind of miss those sleepless nights.  I love Jack's independence but I miss him needing me so much.  This is why people have second children.

Confession about child birth

I thought I was prepared for child birth.  I had read up on different birthing methods.  I talked to other women that had children.  I became good friends with Google. I told my husband that I did not want meds and if I asked for them his only job was to say "Are you sure"  and stand behind me telling me what a good strong wife I was.  I was going to have a wonderful med free delivery, hear the doctor announce the gender, have my beautiful child placed on my chest, and breastfeed for the first time.  I wanted my two hours with my child before it had to go to the nursery.

My water broke at 11:45 PM on November 15.  I was progressing pretty well for the first hour.  Then I stalled.  Pushing did nothing.  I was passing out and thought I was going to get sick.  I asked for an epidural.  Andrew asked if I was sure and if looks could kill.... well, I'd be a single woman right now.  Andrew couldn't handle the sight of child birth.  He left the room.  I couldn't handle the pain.  I got the meds.  So much for my plan...

I was still certain I was going to deliver the baby vaginally, just on my own.  But around 6 A.M. on November 16, it became pretty obvious that I would need a c-section.  Andrew still couldn't handle the delivery so my mom came to the hospital so I wouldn't be alone.  Andrew had to stand on the outside of the delivery room door and the doctor had to yell "It's a Boy" so we could find out together.  I got to see Jack briefly before he was taken to his dad and the nursery and I was stitched and stapled.   Jack and Andrew came to the recovery room and I was so tired and drugged up that Andrew had to help hold Jack on my breast so I could try to feed him. 

Absolutely nothing happened the way I thought it would.  Almost everything that could go wrong did go wrong.  But I had my son.... my beautiful precious son... the child that we had hoped and prayed for.  He was safe.  I was safe.  Our family was together and my heart was whole.