I have to go to the Doc/midwife office today. I guess my obsession about my sore, bloated belly was not all "in my head" - it could be a uterine infection. You see, I had to have a "manual removal" of the placenta after Jack's delivery. Let's just describe it as "violent", albeit necessary. I thought something "wasn't right"...the berevement counselor (who is also a nurse at the hospital) from the hospital called to check in on me today and she suggested that I call my doc right away when I described my physical issues to her.
Also as an aside here - she noted that it is WAY too soon for me to go to a support group...that I should wait until December, perhaps. However I have her as a counselor who will be calling each week to check in with me. I can also go see her or another counselor one-on-one if needed, as well as counselors through my church.
I am now much less concerned about clothes...I want to get well. I'm sure if I get the medicine ball rolling today I'll be better in a few days.
medical post script - and some reminiscing on Jack's delivery
I have some indication of uterine as well as urinary tract infection but nothing suspected as too serious...so its a week of antibiotics plus more hormones to stimulate uterine contractions for the next 24 hours to help rid my body of extraneous tissues, clots, etc (sorry to be so graphic) that were left behind following the induced delivery. I don't think I noted it in my blog but it took somewhere along the lines of 36 straight hours of chemicals - first cytotec then high-dose pitocin - to get the labor moving along...and then it came fast and furious...and thus left my bod a little out of sync with what nature intended, apparently.
Thankfully admidst all that physical and emotional pain, I had fantastically empathetic, caring, top-rate nurses, midwives (yes TWO!) and a Gyne taking care of me. The midwife who saw me today is the woman who delivered my daughter and supported me - as a healthcare professional first, a woman and friend second - in my decision to continue my pregnancy despite predicted "bad" outcome.
I was also highly "drugged out" by choice with narcotics (demerol, nubain) throughout the induction and labor process...and once the contractions started in HARD I screamed for (and got) an epidural (which hurt like HELL!!!!!) Since Jack was so small (1 lb, 5 ounces) delivering him was quite honestly the easiest part of the entire 4 day process for me. The nurses gently cleaned up his little lifeless body and wrapped him in some lovely and tiny handmade blankets and a handmade little hat and then allowed me to hold him while a woman from my Church blessed him and me with holy water. I told him what a good baby he was, that he didn't hurt me at all when he left my body. Poor little guy. Without disrespecting him or his physical body, when I saw him, it was obvious that his physical challenges were much greater than prior testing indicated. The one funny thing was that compared to the rest of his body, he had big feet - just like his dad and sister. They were perfefect little feet, though. One of the nurses, the berevement counselor I have mentioned before, made a beautiful plaster casting of his feet into a sort of statuette/memorial for me to keep. Its wrapped up in a blue satin ribbon and rests next to my bed on my dresser. I want to remember that part of him that was so lovely in its perfection and yet so indicative of his human-ness.
