I feel like I should apologize to the internet for my rather graphic and colorful descriptions of the most recent events. I reread my entry about the appendectomy and was like, WOAH. In all the haze of anesthesia and Demerol, my language got rather graphic and I forgot how many friends from my church read my blog…WOOPS! Oh, and my dad, too. Sorry dad!
It’s not like I don’t occasionally drop an f-bomb now and then on my blog. After all, it is my blog. I paid for it, right? Though I am squatting on my sister’s server. Thryn, if you want me to stop using such foul language, let me know. Ha!
But really, if I offended anyone’s sensibilities, I’m sorry. Forgive me?
Now I shall tell you about what’s going on today. And if you don’t want to read about my bodily functions, check out my sidebar and read something from the archives.
I am so, so grateful to be home. Not only is the internet better here, but Timothy has full access to my breasts, I can pee in the toilet and not in a measuring cup, and I can eat real food! Don’t get me wrong: I loved having some peace and quiet. My main concern was Timothy, though. He flat-out refused to eat for anyone while I was in the hospital Sunday night. While he was at my mom’s, he maybe drank two ounces of a magical concoction of lactose-free milk & water. The formula was refused altogether. When Jamie brought him to me Monday morning, I wish I had taken a picture of the way Timothy’s eyes rolled back in his head when he latched on. Although it hurt to have him in my lap, those feel-good prolactin hormones took over and we quickly settled in to a much-needed nursing.
Unfortunately, my supply was rather low and by 9:30 last night, Timothy was so not happy with the amount of milk he was getting. He normally doesn’t cry at home unless something was wrong, so my heart was breaking as he cried at my breast. Jamie took him when he got too upset, calmed him down, and put him back in bed with me. Throughout the night, Timothy nursed at least every three hours for 20-30 minutes at a time. He’s never been a lingerer, but he made exceptions last night. And that’s fo’ sho’.
One last word about my body. A fantastic side-effect of laparoscopic surgery is GAS! Oh good God, I just wikipedia-ed laparoscopic surgery and there are PICTURES. So, don’t do that if you are easily grossed out. Anywayyy, since they pumped my abdomen full of carbon dioxide, I now have to eliminate some of that gas. While we were in bed watching “Hoarders” last night, Jamie turned to me because he was wondering what in the world was vibrating the bed. I was just like, “Sorry.”
Ladylike, I know.
So, now I have to essentially start over with my post-baby workouts once I get all healed from my first ever surgery. I was really starting to feel great, too. My diastasis was gone, and I was able to fit into one more pair of pre-pregnancy jeans. Now, I look like I just had another baby! Gah! Oh well.