WIGO

What is going on? Well the following:

• Meeting fellow bloggers
• Attending PND mothers group
• Attending other new mothers group
• Talking to Midwife / Counsellor about PND
• Having home visits from Health Care Nurse to monitor the PND
• Preparing for Jordan’s Christening
• Supporting Ellie through a tough time with parents
• Getting sick of talking about “how I feel”
  

Since I came home from the hospital, the demon thoughts have not visited, since I came home from the hospital, I have not felt depressed. Yet all these people will not leave me alone. Part of me wishes I had lied on the questionnaire like my SIL, just to have these people off my back.

I’m having another visit today with the HCN and I have an appointment on Thursday with a psychiatrist. I feel that sometimes I don’t even have time to enjoy Jordan anymore.

I get more depressed when I talk about how I felt in the first three months of his life. Is it the fact that I don’t want to deal? That perhaps I’m running away? I don’t think so, I don’t feel that way anymore.

The Dr spills

I saw the surgeon late last week and he removed the staples…all I can say is oooch. He checked me over and we discussed the details of the surgery. He mentioned that this particular surgery took 5 years off his life…because of the amount of blood.

I don’t want to dramatise my experience or dwell on what happened, but apparently I came very close, so very close to the edge of no return. He skimmed over the details and cryptically said that if I was not in that hospital and didn’t have the experience in the room then the surgery could’ve had disastrous consequences, basically I could’ve died.

So how does that make me feel? Guilty, when I woke and I got my bearings, I still could not help feel a great sense of guilt….yes guilt…for putting my needs (to have this surgery) before Jordan’s and then having been told that I came close to dieing makes my guilt even worse. Buy I’m working through this guilt…and if anything what I do is just shower Jordan with as much love and attention that I can give.

Tim surprisingly coped really well with looking after Jordan, he didn’t want any help from my mother or his mother…he wanted to do things on his own. His motto was that if I could do it then he could as well. The best thing about all of this…is that Tim and I are now both on the same page with him…we both “know” his signs and he has bonded totally with his son.

Ok I’m sick of talking about myself so here are some new photo’s of my boy. This is the way Jordan sucks his thumb.


This will be Jordan's outfit for his Christening, I thought that I should try it on him before I wash it and cut off the tags...what do you think?


Finally I managed to take a photo of his beautiful full faced smile!

 

How am I?

Thankyou all so much for your comments!

I am ok, in a lot of pain but am coping. In the end I had 4-5 units of blood given to me and I was sedated to help my body cope with the surgery and blood loss.

When I was finally awake and had the tube of horror removed, it was then that I noticed how many different tubes, drips and such stuff was attached to me. In the middle of my left forearm was the IV tube that they gave me the blood, then on my right hand was another IV which they used for the pain killers. Then just under my right collarbone was a CV line that consisted for 3 separate lines, for antibiotics and hydration solution. Then of corse I had a catheter and a drain tube.

My body looks like it has been through a war, I have 14 separate bruises on both my thighs and upper arms from all the heparin injections I received. Then I have all these bruised alone my wrists and forearms form all the attempts at inserting IV’s. Then of course there are my 4 wounds, which the surgeon decided to use staples instead of stitches to sew up.

The road to recovery for this surgery compared to the c-section is much tougher…so much harder. Gone is my vow to be visitor free for 2 weeks, I just can’t do anything on my own. I’m able to change Jordan’s nappy but then it is a struggle as his kicking feet are at the wound height.

My mother in law was over on the weekend to cook and iron for us and now my mother is here to stay over night as Tim is back at work and it is hard for me to do the night feed.

A day lost

Sunday

10pm – I’m talking to my brother in law about the surgery that will take place the next day. Oh No…the pain is starting. I get off the phone and take some pain killers and walk around the house. Tim is in the shower, I gingerly tell him that the pain has started.

Wait 30 minutes….no change…shit. Call my in-laws (who live very close to us). “Can you please come over, now I need to go to the hospital, my body just couldn’t wait the extra night for the surgery”.
11pm to 1am - I’m in the Emergency department where I’ve been stabbed in both arms to get an IV going and been given pethidine for the pain…I didn’t like it one bit. I send Tim home to our baby.

Monday

7am - I buzz for the nurse asking for breakfast…no I’m not allowed as I’m having surgery today. Fuck…can I have a drink of water…no…you are on fluids anyway to help hydrate your body. Can I have a fucking shower…yes…ok.

Tim comes in with Jordan whom promptly decides to crack the shits…I settle him and he sleeps on the bed. I’m still hooked up to the IV.

1pm – The surgeon comes in…hahaha how funny that your body couldn’t wait the extra night…all the more reason to have it taken out.

“When am I going to have the surgery?”

“Around 5 or 6 o’clock”

Not really impressed but start the whole waiting game…I hate waiting. 6pm I get told that they are ready for me. Finally!!! I have these stockings put on my legs to stop ‘deep vain thrombosis (DVT)’ forming’ and then get wheeled to the waiting area. I felt so alone, so very alone and I’m nervous as hell. I fight to keep the tears in as I’m waiting there.

More weird things are put on my legs…a plastic cover with tubes..I was to discover later that once this things is hooked up to a pump and would constrict and retract to cause pressure in my legs…a preventative measure of DVT.

6:30 – I’m finally wheeled into theatre and see the anaesthetist. “You will be put to sleep now”

“OK”

Blackness.

Voices so many loud voices…SHUT UP…YOU ARE SO FUCKING LOUD!

“Oh they don’t know I’m awake…SHIT…SHIT…I can’t move”

“OK Mari shake your head…no it didn’t work…FUCK….shake your head and arms…no nothing…..ok breath deeply…try your legs…FUCK!!!! HELLO I’M HERE SHUT UP…LOOK I’M HERE…try your head again…I think it worked…I felt my head move a little”…then blackness

I wake....Oh there is my Mimi, his eyes are red and his face is pale. I try to speak but I can’t. “Why is there a tube in my mouth” I point at it.

“Your OK Mari, your in ICU, Jordan is with my parents, I love you.”

Tears are running down my face “I love you too, where am I, what happened, why am I in ICU”. But I can’t say any of this I touch I grab his hand and touch his face….blackness

I wake again…oh there is Anyu (my mother)…I point at thing in my mouth.

“No sweetheart you can’t have that removed…in the morning we will take it out” A nurse says to me.

“How am I meant to talk…I want to talk…” I motion with my hand that I want to write, I’m given a pen and a piece of paper.

I write something and give it to Anyu “I can’t understand what you are writing”

I try again “WHAT HAPPENED?”

Blackness again…Anyu is still there I grab her hand and fall back asleep. I wake again and point to my mouth.

“no honey in the morning not now, are you thirsty?”

I nod a cotton bud with water is dripped in my mouth…tears are running down my face…I have never tasted water so sweet before…blackness.

Anyu is talking to the nurse. “I’m staying till about 8pm”, I look at the clock it is 6pm, I’m still holding my Mums hand.

I indicate that I want to write again…the nurse laughs affectionately at how I close one eye to focus on what I’m writing. I ask again “What happened”

“There was a complication with the surgery, but you are ok now”.

I sleep again and when I wake Anyu is still there holding my hand…I write “Is it morning yet”. They all laugh “No it isn’t, it’s 8pm”

“Anyu I know you can’t understand me, but go home you look so tired, I’m ok, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, go home to Apu and Bro…I love you” I try to convey all of this in my eyes, but she doesn’t understand me I touch her face and wave for her to go away.

I sleep….and when I wake it is much lighter…finally it is morning.

Another nurse leans over my face. “Good morning darling!” I point to my tube…yes it is coming out today.

In comes the Dr, he is pale and looks worried I try to smile. “Mari there was a complication with your surgery, the main thing is that you are here”

I look to the nurse a bit confused, a complication…I write “Did you remove my Gall Bladder?”

“Yes, I did”

“What was the complication”.

“Your artery was severed during the procedure and you lost a lot of blood, but you are ok now. You will most likely be moved to a ward today.”

“What Day is it?” I write to the nurse.

“It is Wednesday”.

I’m stunned and I look confused.

“We kept you sedated for a day because you’ve been very ill, you came to us Monday night at 10pm and it is now Wednesday morning 7:30am. Honey you’ve lost a day!”

I smacked my hand to my forehead and start to cry, gag and vomit.