This is the song that never ends...: Part III

This is the song that never ends...

Sunday, December 17, 2006

Part III

I don’t remember much of the process that followed directly after. I just kind of let the Gravol do it’s thing and rested in and out of consciousness. John held the baby and I know I looked at him (the baby) a couple times---almost in a ‘is this real?’ kind of fashion. I was wheeled into recovery and the baby was weighed, 7 lbs, 1 oz. Tiny! Totally not the 9-pounder the doctor was promising. The doula helped me get breastfeeding started (he latched like a champ) and I just kind of laid there while I slowly gained feeling in my toes.

The hospital stay in and of itself was fabulous. Every nurse was wonderful and had her own words of wisdom or just some new spin on doing things. I was just shocked at how much pain I was in afterwards. When I got settled into my room for the night, the nurse said that she wanted me to try and go to the bathroom. Huh? She said the only way that I was getting the catheter taken out was if I went to the bathroom. So, I, very slowly, brought my legs over the side of the bed and ever-so-gently tried to stand up. Nope. Tried again. Umm, no. It took about 4 or 5 tries, each one with significant effort, before I was able to even stand clutching the IV pole. I made my trip to the bathroom and was yet again amazed at how easy it was for me to let someone help me onto the toilet and stay there while I pee. The nurse showed me how to use that awesome spray bottle-thing and helped me up. I still can’t believe how difficult it was to do things as simple as getting in the hospital bed, let alone trying to get comfortable once you’re in.

I don’t think I slept more than 4 hours during my entire 3-day stay. My husband will attest to this one hundred percent. I constantly slept with the baby all swaddled up next to me in the hospital bed. I just wanted to be near him. During the first night and day, I couldn’t get up and out of bed that easily, so if the baby was hungry or needed changing, John had to change him or bring him to me. I don’t think that it affected the bonding process in the beginning---we really didn’t have much of a bonding process at all. At the C-section, I didn’t really get to see him until John had his claws on him and during the stay, I was only able to get him while he cried for the breastmilk that I didn’t have. I think that’s why I just wanted to stay up with him so much while people slept. That was our time and it was the only time I think I really felt like his mom.


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