Today was not so great. Definitely didn't go the way I was envisioning.
I started having some pretty severe pain right before lunch time. I have been having it off and on since yesterday, but today was bad. Think you're going to pass out kind of bad. And let me just preface that with saying that since I've been home (2 days out from major surgery), I've only taken Ibuprofen for pain. So, today I headed to see the doctor.
Back up to before the doctor's office...
I got a call from the short-term disability insurance office. The nice lady on the other end of the line was wanting to verify that I actually had surgery. She asked me several questions like when I was released from the hospital, when I thought I would be returning to work, etc... And then she asked a question that took my breath away.
"And your expected date of delivery is still April 3rd?"
I couldn't breathe. Then the tears started coming. Hard and fast. Unexpected. It took me a minute to get my voice. I was trying to talk and nothing was coming out. Finally I was able to tell her that our sweet girl was delivered during surgery and did not make it. That poor insurance lady. After that I could tell that she wanted to end the call as. soon. as. possible. The only good thing is that I think she is now going to push the claim through.
I cried after we hung up for a while. I would stop and then start again. Off and on. Roller coaster ride. I took one of the Xanax the doctor at the hospital prescribed and wondered if I should have taken it sooner. Unpredictable tears have taken over.
Fast forward back to the doctor's office...
Jason was fortunately home a little bit early. I had told B that his dad would be here when he woke up from his nap and B was so excited (he is having some major separation anxiety from both of us right now). So, I had my mom take me to the doctor.
I saw a family practice doctor because I couldn't get in touch with Dr. Bertsch's staff (of course I didn't start calling them until 1pm). This family practice doctor also works for Scott & White and was so great.
My waterworks started once again when the nurse's assistant took me back into the room and asked me when my last menstrual period was. Again- breath knocked out of me. I just looked at her, and as though she thought I didn't understand her question she said "Ma'am, did you have a period in December?" I looked at her and through tears said "No, I was pregnant." I started to tell her the shortened version of the story. She compassionately stopped me and said she didn't need all of the details.
So the doctor was great. She said so many things that I needed to hear. As she was saying them I was looking at her and making a conscious effort to remember them. Of course, I forgot most of them, but this was the gist of it:
I had a major surgery almost two weeks ago. She said most people who had this surgery and were at this point would still be in bed (she even offered me a wheelchair to leave). She looked at my incision and her words were "Okay, that is big." Very straight faced. Very matter of fact.
She reminded me that all of my abdominal muscles have been cut through, and then my uterus was cut length-wise from top to bottom. Major surgery. Not to mention the manipulation of my insides that went on in order to try to get Caroline in the right position for the spina bifida repair.
She said that I need to "respect the gravity of all that my body had been through," and that for at least two more weeks I need to spend the majority of my time in bed, letting things heal. Absolutely no lifting Bryson. No driving. She told me that it is reasonable for me to take the full twelve weeks that my FMLA allows.
She also said that I need to just be protected by my family and "inner circle". No returning phone calls and keeping up with everyone else. She then said something that really hit home. She said that I need to not try to fit in with the normal public world, because right now things are not normal for me. I have tried to be back in the normal world, not because I'm trying to pretend that things are different than what they are, but because I desperately want that. But, I now realize that I need to allow this space and time to grieve all that was lost that day. Time to grieve the loss as it pertains to my family and as it pertains to me.
I cried through most of the visit. She started me on a low-dose anti-depressant and also gave me medication to help me sleep (I have been dreading going to bed every night, knowing that I will lye there with my mind reeling for a far longer amount of time than I ever care to even think about). My 1am bedtime is not really working anymore.
This will be temporary. She said that the anti-depressant will not do the work for me, but it will help me get my feet under me so that I can begin to do the work myself.
As a nurse, I have always believed in depression as a real thing. It can be diagnosed with a scan of the brain. It is physical- not just mental. I have agreed to try this medication for a short amount of time. I am grasping for anything at this point that will give me a grip. A grip so that I can begin to crawl back out into the normal public world again.
She also prescribed a medication to fix the other physical things going on. The unforseen complications that come with pregnancy and surgery. Lovely times.
So- home we came and into bed I crawled. My sweet friend came over to check on me and ended up crawling in bed and watching one of my favorite movies with me. So thankful for friends who can crawl in my bed after crawling over piles of laundry and shoes and who knows what else!
I'm also thankful for that doctor I saw today. It was really more of a therapy session with a few prescriptions for other things thrown in! She knew just what to say and how to say it. Amazed once again at the people God has placed in my life-and in His timing. I will follow-up with Dr. Bertsch next week and with this doctor in three weeks.
So I have a lot of resting to do. She said no less than eight hours per night, plus naps during the day. She said "the only way to recover from this is to throw a lot of rest at it." I am not good at this, but I will do it. I will do whatever has to be done to heal, physically and emotionally.
Things will get better.
Wishing there was a fast-forward button to get through this ugly part...
