Pathetic

When I reread my last post earlier today it struck me as whiny. So I want to make myself clear: though I don’t feel particularly lucky that I still have a hole in my abdomen, I DO feel extremely lucky to have Max. I also feel lucky that my complications weren’t worse, that Jim has been so supportive, that I was able to take a 12 week maternity leave, that I have a roof over my head and food on my table and all sorts of other things, material and ethereal. I am grateful.

Back when I was in the midst of infertility hell, I used to play the “it could always be worse” game constantly. Sometimes it was the only way I could get motivated to haul myself out of bed in the morning. I would go through a mental checklist of things that WEREN’T wrong in my life (I didn’t have a terminal disease, I wasn’t unemployed, I wasn’t estranged from my family, etc. etc.) and it would give me enough oomph to keep moving forward.

I assume being tired and hormonal has contributed to my inability to put everything in perspective instead of getting all pathetic and snively. So I am formally announcing my intention to man up (woman up?) and do a better job of focusing on what IS going right at the moment. For instance, Max is super cute. And also? It’s Girl Scout cookie time.

Sigh

I’m irritated to report that I still have a hole in my abdomen. The doctor estimates it will be there for at least another couple of weeks. I’m starting to get very frustrated about the whole thing, and just want to put this unpleasant episode behind me.

A new nurse stopped by yesterday to take care of my bandage change, and she said “At least this seems to be healing and they didn’t have to re-open the whole incision”. Uh . . . that was a potential option? YUCK!

When she left Jim said “See, it could be worse!” and I responded with “Are you actually trying to tell me I should feel lucky??”

At least I have Max to help distract me. I can’t believe he’ll be 4 weeks old on Tuesday, which means I’m already 1/3 of the way through my maternity leave. Amazing. He’s still rockin’ the full head of hair. We like to say he’s going to make a great newscaster.

Guilty Pleasure

Whenever there is nothing on TV, Jim and I like to watch America’s Funniest Home Videos, which plays in steady rotation on cable. I would normally not confess to such low-brow consumption, but I’ve decided to come clean. It’s liberating!

As anyone who has watched the show knows, the videos are usually variations on a **somewhat tired** theme, such as: man gets hit in groin, someone falls in a pool of water, someone takes a terrible tumble, etc.  But occasionally they’ll throw in a real gem,  like this dachshund-themed video, which about sent me over the edge. Comic GOLD, people.

The best part of the show is anticipating what kind of mayhem is about to take place. Jim and I will sit on the couch and mutter “Uh oh . . .” or “This doesn’t look good . . . ” as we wait for the inevitable payoff. We also marvel at what appear to be incredibly painful moments. Sometimes they’re not even funny—they’re just scary and sad. Do they somehow ensure that no one was harmed in the making of the videos?

My goal is to capture Rooster and Banjo on film while in the midst of one of their tongue-bath sessions. Banjo likes to lick Rooster like a cat. It’s ridiculous. And I figure on a good week it might be worth a few thousand dollars. One can dream.

Baby Steps

Well, it appears my seroma is shrinking. So that’s good news. We are now at 2 cm x 2 cm x 5.5 cm, which is down from 2.5 cm x 2.5 cm x 7.5 cm. So if I continue at the current rate of progress (and who knows if that’s a realistic assumption) I should be completely healed up in another 3 weeks. Though I have to say, I really hope it’s sooner. Because the thought of 3 more weeks of dealing with the bandages, etc. is a bit daunting, to say the least. Not to mention, I’m getting really sick of constantly scraping sticky adhesive off my abdomen, which is the result of changing the dressing about twice daily.

But enough about my gaping wound! In other news Max seems to be doing a little better with his crying. There is now a bit less of it, and he spends a few minutes here and there awake and NOT belting out the blues. This development is possibly the result of us giving in to the evil pacifier. We’re trying to be judicious about it, but sometimes it’s the only thing that makes him happy. I fear he will grow up to be a smoker or a chronic gum-chewer.

Jim goes back to work on Wednesday and I’m curious to see how well I’ll manage on my own. Or won’t. I guess I should consider anything short of the dogs swinging from the light fixtures, the cat destroying the couch, and Max screaming all day to be a victory. As I’ve said before, all you really have to do to ensure success is to set your expectations low enough.

Setback

The past week and a half has been quite the whirlwind. Max is doing well and we love him to pieces. Though I will admit the kid certainly has a set of lungs on him. Luckily Jim is a first class baby whisperer. I have been amazed by his patience and willingness to do anything to help out. I’m not quite sure what I’m going to do when he goes back to work next week.

In unfortunate news, my recovery has been less than ideal. The second night that we were home I woke to the startling realization that part of my incision had reopened and was spilling blood/fluid everywhere. I know—totally disgusting. Turns out I have a seroma, which is an area underneath my incision where the fluid is collecting. Apparently it’s not an uncommon c-section complication, and can also happen with any other type surgery incision. Who knew! Luckily my insurance company is covering a home nurse so we don’t have to go into the doctor’s office every day for a dressing changing. She was initially going to come for just a few visits and then teach Jim how to take care of the problem. But since the seroma is on the large size (I always was an over-acheiver!), the nurse has decided that we shouldn’t traumatize Jim with the care. I won’t freak you out with the gory details, but suffice it to say the wound packing process is quite daunting, considering the seroma runs about 7 cm under my incision.

The good news is that the situation is more annoying than outright painful. Granted, I am still on an Advil regiment with an occasional 1/2 of a Vicodin thrown in to keep the pain manageable, but the alternative isn’t acceptable. I would rather stay somewhat functional and able to take care of Max as opposed to spending my time doubled over in pain on the couch. And the doctor has reassured me that the little guy isn’t going to be affected by the pain meds.

The nurse thinks it will take a couple of weeks for the seroma to resolve. In the meantime I’m just trying to be patient and not get overly worked up about something that I can’t control. It has been a bit frustrating because I was initially doing so well after the c-section. But even with the complications and Max’s general fussiness, I feel insanely lucky to have a real, live healthy baby at home. And that’s where I’m trying to focus my attention.

Max is here

I’ll write a proper post when I have a few minutes (ha!) but until then, here are the vital stats: Max was born on January 29th at 9:20, weighing in at 7lbs 5oz. He is 20 1/4″long.

The c-section wasn’t exactly fun, but the outcome was WELL worth it. And now for the first official family photo . . .

I’m pleased to report that I finally believe this little guy is real.