Life in the South!: Just Another Manic Monday

(*WARNING: If you are easily sickened by graphic details read no further. Enjoy another post. Grab a cup of coffee. Write a letter to your grandma, but do NOT read further. You have been warned!*)

Normally I wouldn't start with proof from the end of our day, but look at that pitiful face. I'm telling ya! ROUGH start to the week!

When we were pregnant everyone told us that our lives would change. Oh buddy boy were they ever right! The post-op appointment for my cholecystectomy was scheduled (not by myself) for this Monday afternoon. Guess who works in the afternoon? Phillip! Guess who has yet to re-adjust to life on this side of gallbladder surgery? Emory!

This surgery left me with five incisions. The worst being right below my diaphragm. It looked gross (I will spare the picture). Black and purple everywhere and a huge knot underneath. I figured it was just scar tissue and bruising. Emory was probably making it worse by lying on it when nursing, but poor little monkey has to eat!

Sunday I noticed that the bad incision looked slightly infected, but I figured my appointment was Monday anyway and I was keeping it covered. No harm done. Monday I get up, go about my day, and shower while Phillip feeds Emory for the last time before my appointment. When I get out of the shower I notice blood literally oozing down my abdomen. Problematic? Perhaps. They certainly didn't mention that as a possibility after the surgery. I clean it up, put a bandaid on it, and start taking over since Phillip needs to leave for work.

Once I get dressed (in my new, pristine white nursing cami) and cardigan, I loaded Emory up, and off we went. About five minutes down the road I feel something wet on my shirt. I look down fully expecting what every nursing mother dreads...springing a leak. Unfortunately for me, I had not sprung a leak. At least not from the area I suspected. That favorite new nursing top, well it looked a lot like a stabbing victim had worn it. Literally blood everywhere. What's a mama to do?

I get to the hospital, fight a stroller and carseat out of the car, and make my way upstairs. Then I run into the doctor that delivered Emory. She tells me he looks like Phillip (of course) and then notices my stomach. Being the lovely lady that she is, she gasped and asked if I wanted her to look at it. I told her that I had an appointment. So off I went. I signed in, took my seat and waited patiently. However, I realized there's only so long one can wait patiently when an orifice has decided to begin dumping internal contents out. I kindly walked to the window and asked the lovely receptionist for a gauze. She decided she could do better than a gauze. I got my own room, a gauze, and some hydrogen peroxide (which I now know will get blood out of clothing).

In case I haven't mentioned this enough, I loved this surgeon. LOVED. He was super sweet. He walked by my room, said hello, and then kept walking. Suddenly he reappeared. (Apparently, he noticed my shirt a little late.) He came right in and said, "Well, this only happens to a patient about once every 6 months and I'm sorry you're that patient." I, on the other hand, wasn't in the least bit surprised that this happened to me. Why would anything go as planned? He told me that apparently a blood vessel had been cut during the surgery and when it tried to heal it formed a blood blister...the size of a baseball...in my abdomen. The good news is that the bleeding meant my body was trying to rid itself of said pocket of fun. The bad news was that he'd have to cut my incision open again to drain as much as he could in the office. Say what?!

So there I was, lying on a table, surgeon prodding and poking in my abdomen, and who decides to wake up and start screaming? Emory! Of course he does. What better melody to accompany me during said procedure? The surgeon, God bless him, was just as patient as he could be with both of us. He was apologizing to me for having to endure this and I to him for my screaming 7 week old. Empathy was mutually swapped on that doctor's table.

Hopefully if the prescription works and I follow orders, I will stop bleeding in a few days and heal up. As for now, I have a gaping hole in my stomach. I go back in a week, so keep your fingers crossed. I spent the rest of the afternoon flying around running a few essential errands while my mom graciously watched my child. Emory decided it'd be a wonderful gift if he cried for her. So from approximately 5 PM to 11 PM, the only time our son was not screaming was when he was being fed. Poor kid, he has his daddy's appetite and his mama's patience. Deadly combo!!!

One of his FEW content moments. Forgive the apparel. Remember, my favorite new shirt had been ruined! I was in mourning.

He is strong. Homeboy decided he wanted to start locking his legs and trying to stand when we hold him. My parents said he's getting out of the way for Baby #2. Haha!