Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Wordless Wednesday

In honor of all the rain, and loss of Sunny days, I'm posting Happy Tulip pictures.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

We Got Dirt!

Well, it's official. We are the proud owners of dirt. 0.57 acres of it.

Eric and I signed our lives away today to become owners of this lot in Brownsburg.

So we had to celebrate by tearing down the For Sale sign.

Woo hoo!

Now the real fun begins, Eric's designing the house....

Sunday, April 19, 2009

If you've seen One, you've seen Two

Something my Stepmother used to say about boobs... For some reason I always got a chuckle about it. And lately, it's given me a bit of Girl Power to think of Boobs as this minor thing.
If you are offended in reading about boobs, or some of my recent technical difficulties, therein, don't read on.

To start out, I am pleased to announce, I got out this week. Got out to PLAY, With and Without the baby. My first adventure out alone, came this week, when I made a Dairy Queen run, I was desperate earlier this week for a Butterfinger Blizzard (which sounds scrumptious as I write this... maybe this evening another one is called for, a bit of relief from my toddler terror) so I nursed Sam, gave him to Daddy, and ran away. It was 20 minutes for my mental health. And it was Good.
However, my Spiritual, Physical, and Mental Health has been repeatedly under attack lately, and it seems that when I get a fix, it doesn't last long, and I find myself once again "a woman on the edge". I am tired, sore....huddled masses yearning to breathe free...etc. The new baby thing is exhausting, but I know it can be worse. I recall it being so with Chris. Sam is such a very good baby. He is rarely fussy for any reason other than being dirty or hungry, and usually remedying those takes care of his fussage. (Not that Chris wasn't a Good Baby, he just didn't have the same opportunity to be because of all his own technical difficulties. I actually think that if Chris would've been 100% healthy, he would've been just as angelic as Sam, indeed he has/had his moments.) Samuel can wear a woman out, because sometimes he gets hungry every hour. I'm serious, it can be like clockwork, he'll stay awake -ish and start getting fussy, and Bam I look at the clock, and it's exactly 1 hour after I last nursed. Today, he's been better, but often he'll go for 3 hours in the morning and evening, wanting to nurse hourly, and just when my body adjusts accordingly, then he'll sleep for 3 hours and I want to explode! I was rewarded on Tuesday this week by my first Plugged Duct with this child. I got a number of them with Christopher, the first ones luckily(?) appearing when we were still at Riley, and I had Lactation Consultants at my call, plus lots of time to devote to Boob Baths and whatnot. This one crept up on me in the wee small hours of Tuesday morning, a lump appeared way up close to my ribs. I tried massaging it out, but after one of Sam's 3 hour naps, I woke up to a chain of lumps working their hot, painful, inflamed way down to my nipple. I started a regime of Nursing (and when Sam didn't want to nurse, I pumped), hot packs, Boob Soaks (those pink plastic tubs from the hospital are perfect for filling with hot water and plopping a boob into, or two if you are a lot less endowed than I), massage, and hot showers. Would you believe my Nursing Book said Take to your bed? With a toddler? Ha! Very funny. I had Eric take Chris to preschool, so I could fight it, and take a morning power nap. By lunchtime it was doing better. I found it odd that they recommend sleep, but I found my pain increased when Sam slept and I went a couple hours without nursing. Therefore, was sleeping really all that helpful? By mid-morning, my hot chain of lumps were a little less fiery and I had a plugged duct right on my nipple. Dang it! All my nursing had moved the plug down, but not rid it entirely, and then nursing really got painful. Well, I was a superchamp, and performed surgery on myself to fix that too, and continued my plugged duct fighting regime. I got two naps Tuesday, and I think the sleeping and the nursing regime helped. I felt better by Tuesday evening, and by Wednesday I was only just tender.
Thursday evening called for a Mom's Night Out. I gave up Chocolate for Lent this year (Sure, in my very pregnant state at the time, it made sense, since I didn't feel right giving up something I'd already given up for that, I wanted to take on something else) and really wanted to celebrate after Easter by giving in to my Lenten craving for the Applebee's Triple Chocolate meltdown. There were only 3 of us, and exception was made to the Mom's only for Samuel to attend. Our small party had a great time. We swapped childbirth stories (something I really love to hear about), and drowned our sorrows in Triple Chocolate Meltdowns and dipping fries into dressings. Really it was a boost to my mental health. The Best Boost to my evening, was indirectly Sam's fault. He woke up, and was dirty, and after getting riled up after his diaper change, he was hungry. My choices were feed him or go home, and frankly I didn't want to go home. Sure our desserts were done, but we were having a fine therapeutic time just chatting. So, I parked myself in the corner of our table, and whipped out a boob and fed the baby. Honestly, it was my first time nursing in that much public. I feel like I moved up in the world, moved up by Nursing In Public. I nursed Chris in public, sort of, usually I'd find a place to hide, a little room, or in my car, once in the handicap stall at Olive Garden. I vowed I wouldn't do that again. In Facebook world, I got into this group about Breastfeeding Awareness, and it's been empowering me. So, sure I broke out the girls at the applebee's. I am not one for covering the baby, frankly I'm so endowed, I regularly worry about suffocation, I'm not going to add a blanket to the mix. So, I was a brave girl, and just whipped 'em out. Well, our waitress came over, sat down and chatted with us, she'd just stopped nursing. My tablemates and I expressed approval. The really cool thing was that if anyone saw anything, they didn't say anything. But I figure, if someone is really bothered by my feeding my baby in a restaurant (where EVERYONE is supposed to eat) they've got bigger issues than my boobs. And that's saying something. It was good for me to get out, have a treat, and do something that I was afraid to do with Chris.

And luckily it kept me sane for Friday, because Chris was in rare form Friday morning, earning 2 timeouts and a spanking in the span of 12 minutes. It's got to be some sort of record.
Saturday, I was Super Blessed to get out for my first big hunk of time ALONE. Sans Sam. I had put this on the schedule before Samuel got here. Saturday was the 10th Street Nazarene Church Kid's Resale. Good quality kid stuff for Cheaps. Now we've been given some goodies for Chris, and Sam didn't really need much, but I was on the prowl for a couple things: sandals, a raincoat, a belt or suspenders. Got all of them, and bumped into a friend. I didn't sift through the clothes as much as I usually do, the crowds were thick, and I waited in the Express Line for longer than I shopped. But just doing that for an hour made my incision hurt, and I felt the effects. I needed a drink.
So, of course, I stopped at Starbucks on the way home, ok it wasn't really out of the way. Then I realized how close I was to JoAnn's and stopped for some much needed yarn, I am working a blanket for Sam and needed more yarn. Holy cow shopping wore me out. So, since I was in Avon and breakfast time, I drove through Chick-Fil-A. Speaking of that I found a new reason to love their breakfast menu, the Blueberry Pineapple Smoothie. Dude.
I was in such a great mood when I got home (and I'd only been gone 2 hours!) that I suggested to Eric we go to the zoo. It was a beautiful spring day, and I'd been ITCHING to go to the zoo, well, notsomuch the zoo but the White River Gardens. I asked Chris if he wanted to go to the zoo and see the butterflies and happy flowers. Since we never mentioned seeing any more animals than that, he was perfectly willing to comply. Once there we saw butterflies, and happy flowers, and it was good. Exhausting, but good. I overdid it, of course. But propelled by my nursing bravery, I plopped down on a bench in the shade of the gardens and nursed the baby surrounded by tulips and the sweet smell of hyacinths. We were not avoiding the crowds, as there were still a lot of folks milling about from the Breast Cancer Walk, which we totally would've done, had I not wanted to hit the Kids Resale. Honestly, I probably don't think I had a 5K in me. We weren't entirely unactive in that, Prayer for those touched directly or indirectly by Breast Cancer is Proactive.
Even whipped them out again today to nurse Sam in the nursery at church, which was crowded, so that I could sit in a nice supportive rocker, instead of doing what I did with Chris and feeding him by hiding in a Sunday school room, and feeding him in not nearly as comfy a chair.
Go Girl Power! Grrrr....
That's all I have to say about that.

Friday, April 17, 2009

It doesn't get better than this

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Hopping down the Bunny Trail

I had been doing so well at taking it easy. Really I did. I didn't feel like doing much at all the first week, but then last week I began to feel a bit better, and once I got drug-free I thought I'd behave myself and not overdo it. Yeah, I did.

Wednesday, I drove the car from the fix-it place home. Then Thursday, we traipsed all over Riley. OK, perhaps All Over Riley is a slight exaggeration, we just went to one office, and that was all, thank goodness, I don't think I would've had it in me to go from one end to the other like we've been doing. Chris weighed low, down a pound in the month since we've been, but that didn't make him much lighter to tote around in the stroller, or better behaved. He had a good couple timeouts during the 2 1/2 hours we were there. To continue my effort to behave myself, I did NOT go to Maundy Thursday, but sent Eric with Chris to church. I think Chris was very partial to Holy Week, he LOVED going to church every night last week (there were rehearsals for this and that, well, except for Monday) and he bugged me yesterday to go again.

Friday, though I started getting antsy to get out. I really would love to go out and play, do a little shopping or something fun like that, but I really Know THAT would be overdoing it. I settled for skipping MOPS, but our friends Kathleen and Emily popped by afterwards for a visit. Chris was so thrilled to have Emily here when he got off the schoolbus. (First thing he looked for yesterday getting off the bus was Emily) They played until Mommy was ready to drop, even cuddling in bed together at one point.

We opted attending to the Good Friday service at church later that evening. Sam of course, was a big hit. The end of the service is supposed to be Silence, but no one remained silent as Samuel held court, the choir wanted to see him, and lots of folks wanted to oooh and ahh over him. And that was just a small crowd. Once the service was done, I was sore and cold. My incision was burning, and it was the perfect time to go home and go to bed. So we did.

Saturday, I didn't think I had it in me to go to Willman Family Easter, so Sam and I hung out at home, while Daddy and Chris got to play with the Fam. I wish I'd gone. But I was worried that I wouldn't have it in me to do what I wanted on Sunday if I played on Saturday. We settled for playing a bit on Saturday night, we dyed Easter eggs. We being Chris and I. That's one of my favorite parts about Easter, and it's all the moreso exciting now that Chris is really beginning to understand it. OK, he understands Easter Bunny, and coloring Eggs, I didn't bother with the "True Meaning" of Easter. I did tell him that we were celebrating Jesus, but that was enough. Too much thought required to get a 3 year old to understand Death and Resurrection. Maybe next year.

Well, Sunday morning, we riled up Chris, waking him at 7-something. There was just enough time for him to open all the eggs in his Easter basket, and hunt for about half of the eggs the Bunny left around the house. Luckily, Sam was up at 6:30, so we could all get up and ready to be at church for the 8 o'clock service. It had been months and months since we'd made that service. I tried to be a Good Lutheran, rising and sitting at all the appropriate times, but by Offering I was Feeling the Burn. My incision was flaming. By the end of the service, I couldn't get up, I just had to sit there. They were having a Brunch, and Eric managed both boys while I waddled through the line for it, then Sam and I went home. We sacked out on the bed together. I've been having terrible luck getting Samuel to sleep in the Pack and Play during the day, so he lies down on the bed next to me, which is a great arrangement, I get to feel him and smell him, and listen to his sweet noises, and then if he calls out, I'm RIGHT THERE. I don't sleep heavily that way, can't roll over, but better light sleep than no sleep at all. We took a nap while Chris stayed in the nursery and Daddy sang with the choir and directed the bell choir for the second service. They sounded really great when I got to hear at the first service. Then we went to lunch at Uncle Ryan and Aunt Amy's house with Eric's branch of family. I was getting sore, but able to hold up and just sit there. Sam slept through most of the visit, which I think bummed out his grandparents. Too bad too, because when we went home for Chris's nap, Sam didn't want to nap at all. Chris woke up and we hightailed it down to my Dad's for Bagg Family Easter. My step-grandma was in town visiting, so Sam got to visit with 3 great-grandmother's and his grandparents. 2 of those Great-grandma's hadn't gotten to meet him yet. But he slept through most of that visit too. There must be something magical to him, whenever we put him in the bucket seat to go somewhere, he conks right out and will sleep for at least an hour afterwards. It's a nice habit he's developed! One I hope will last.
However, by the end of Sunday, Mommy's belly was burning fierce, bringing tears to my eyes by the time I got into the car to go home. I took Ibuprofen before headed down to my Dad's but it didn't do much, so I had to break out the big guns when we got home. That pretty much did me in enough to take 2 naps yesterday and not even hop online.

Yesterday morning, and again this morning, Chris woke up and asked for MORE EASTER.
I don't think so babe, Mommy was exhausted enough. Good thing Easter only comes once a year.

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

As Good As Tap Water

So, this weekend, I got this terrible anthrax. That is to say, some sort of really truly horrible disease. This sore throat that began bothering me Wednesday, and was at that time, only mildly annoying, until it really began its crescendo.
By this weekend, I was a mess. Here I am, trying to wean myself off painkillers, so that I can be trusted alone with my children, because Eric was headed back to work on Monday. By Saturday I could barely talk, so great was the amount of Guck clogging up the back of my throat. By Sunday the only way I could talk was if I gargled with Salt Water every hour. I had a monster headache which I realized was from clenching my forehead, jaw, and cheek muscles whenever I swallowed because the pain was so great. I could only drink something if it was really REALLY HOT, or really really cold. I could only eat if it was a chaser to some drink; things like yogurt, pudding, and milkshakes seemed to go down easier than things I had to chew. Friends brought us food, and I could barely eat it. This was by far the WORST sore throat I'd ever had in my life. By Sunday evening, I had lost the ability to gargle. The back of my throat and tongue were so thick, I couldn't put together the voice and air required to gargle. I would just hold the salt water in the back of my throat with my head tilted back. That area was so inflammed and sore, swallowing was misery, and nothing touched it. Chloroseptic barely touched it, just would numb me enough to be able to fall asleep. I was drinking tea by the potful, and soaking lemons in it. The antibiotic wasn't working, I was only feeling worse. I was bursting into tears from the pain. The only times I could eat (I didn't figure this out for a while, I just thought I'd get waves of feeling better) were when I was in the Prime of my Darvocet, between 1-3 hours from taking it, and I was taking it every 4 hours or so. Eric was worried, he said it wasn't right that Darvocet was the only medication that was giving me relief from a sore throat.
It wasn't until he said that I realized how bad shape I was really in.
So, first thing Monday morning, after a particularly tear-filled and horrendously painful night I headed for the doctor. They open at 8:30, but I was in such a hurry, and we had to get Chris on the bus at 9, and Eric wanted to go to work. Eric dropped me off on their doorstep. I took Darvocet so at least they'd be able to understand me, then went in and apologized for being "that patient" that just shows up unannounced, but even as I was telling them my symptoms I started crying, and that was working REALLY hard at not crying. I didn't just burst into tears, more like a steady leakage. Luckily, I had Sam with me, and he just distracts everyone with his cuteness, so it seemed that no one minded that I crashed the party.
My doctor took a look in my throat, and I was greatly reliefed, indeed Validated, when he said, Gross. He didn't like the look of the right side, which is where it seemed to be infiltrating my jawbone and creeping into my ear. My ears looked good though. Worst case scenario, it could be an absess. But it wasn't viral or it would've been done and over with. So, he prescribed me a new antibiotic, Omnicef.
God bless the scientists that created Omnicef!
OK, picture it, I'm on the Darvocet, we drop off the antibiotic script, and since we must wait, well, the boy takes me for breakfast at Starbucks, and my latest favorite a Chai Tea Latte. I wash down my pill with my Chai, and I'm not kidding by the time I finished that drink, I felt better. Within hours, I sounded better. By the time Eric got home I was thrilled to report I was genuinely thirsty!
It had been days, since Eric had offered me my regular glass of water to drink while nursing, but by Monday night, I was back wanting it again. I had been only drinking ice water with lemon, or hot tea with lemon. But I am pleased to report that now I am healthy enough to drink water right from the tap.
I know it sounds like a crazy thing, to be so happy about being able to drink tap water, or even better yet, something room temperature. But it had been getting downright inconvenient to only be able to drink HOT or COLD, and even those items still hurt when drinking.
I am getting better. I still have a mildly annoying sore throat. Oh happy day.
We've had a few visitors over the last couple days, and I've had no less than 3 people tell me I look Fabulous! It's the weirdest thing, but now that I'm over the hump of this absolutely horrible sore throat, and that all I'm dealing with is the whole having a baby thing, I feel SO much better.
Today I managed to avoid Darvocet All Day Long. AND we picked up my car, and I drove it home with Eric following, but we made it home in one piece. I feel huge progress has been made since I drove today. Of course, after our short drive, I had to take a nap. Eric worked full days yesterday and today, and I was able to care for Sam and Chris! But when evening rolls around, and Eric has been having things to do at church, well, he's been taking Chris with him. I may be looking fabulous, and feeling a million times better, drug free and getting healthier every minute...but I did just have a baby, and get my gut slashed in the process. So 2 crazy kiddoes all day AND in the evening too has still proven too much for me to yet handle alone. Perhaps another day soon....
And that's how I feel, as good as tap water. It may not be the best, not super awesome, but when you haven't had any in days, it is fabulous.

Friday, April 3, 2009

I Don't Necessarily Recommend this Diet

I forgot to mention, as of my OB appt earlier this week I had lost 20 pounds of the 40 that I gained with this pregnancy. Woo hoo! I think woo hoo. That's good right? Anyway, I'm bound and determined to not wear anymore of my maternity clothes. Some of you may know between summers of 2007 and 2008 I lost 50 pounds, so many of my "fat clothes" still fit when I was 9 months pregnant (mostly XXL shirts) but pants were and still are my problem. Anyway, I've been having fun this week wearing NON-PREGNANCY clothes. A lot of my clothes are boxed up and we'll have to break out the various stages to find me things to wear, and that is ever so complicated.

But I wouldn't recommend this diet if you want to lose weight.

Since I'm feeling like ass I'm not inclined to eat. I've lost another 3 pounds since Wednesday. Wednesday afternoon I started to get a sore throat, it got worse and worse until yesterday afternoon, my throat felt so fat I couldn't talk, or swallow, let alone sleep (and this is just too crucial a time for me to sleep for me to not be able to sleep more than 20 minutes when the baby is sleeping for 3 hours!). Now earlier this week, I had trouble yelling at Chris (for discipline, not just in general) because apparently one uses ones abdominal muscles for yelling, and mine were out of commission. However, by Wednesday I was feeling decent enough to yell if I had to. Yesterday evening, Daddy left us alone and I made the mistake of yelling at Chris, and I tell you the pain in my throat outweighed the scar pain. I've been trying all kinds of remedies: Chloroseptic spritzer and cough drops, but the relief is only temporary. I called my doctor (even though I'd been in Wednesday for OB, and Thursday for Sam, none of those times did I THINK to mention my throat hurt, I was more concerned about the baby) and asked to be squeezed in. Beautifully, they didn't have room in their schedule, and so they called me in a Z-pack. How lovely is that? Not that I'm drug seeking or anything, though these last two posts seem to hinge on drugs, so maybe I am...a little. But I think I may just deserve a little drug induced pain relief. I just had my gut slashed open after all, and now my tonsils and glands are the size of walnuts. Fun times.
I also was talking to my Mom and she mentioned that I should drink tea, which I have by the potful, and have citrus fruits: lemons, oranges...etc. I laughed and said, the only fruit we have are grapes and strawberries (and really that's pretty good for us, live fresh fruit tends to die around us and that's not even considering that we were in hospital for 4 days). She told me to eat the strawberries (she brought lemons over today!) because they have Vitamin C or something like that. So I choked down a couple strawberries as soon as I got off the phone, but Dude it hurts to eat. She also suggested that I gargle with salt water. (Salt water?! Ewww.) Really Gargle...she said. I'm like ok fine. I'm desperate, I'll try anything if it gets me to swallow, I'm so sore that when I got up in the middle of the night the night before last, Eric offered me my regular cup of water (which I usually down when I'm nursing in like 2 seconds) and I was like No Way, not worth the pain of swallowing for some little bit of thirst quench. So I gargled with the salt water. Dude. Tasted like ASS, but I'm not kidding, I put the cup down, spit out the gargled water into the sink, and literally stood up and told Eric, man that tasted like ass, and my voice was clear, and my tongue wasn't as thick. Instantly! I'm telling you, by gum, it worked! Tastes like butt, but Extremely Effective! I've been alternating between the great functionality and the gag reflex induced by it as I gargle hourly all day. Man I hope these antibiotics work soon!

Poor Eric. He strives to still have a life amidst all this insanity. He went to a meeting last night and came home to find me in mad tears, and then he went to the doctor this morning, and though the boys had only been up for a half an hour, they both required the same sort of care-feeding and changing, and I could really only deal with one of them. Poor boys, I'm yelling at Chris to drink his cocoa, he's playing with things he shouldn't, gets a time out and I have to jiggle the nursing Sam across the house to get him into timeout, needless to say the seal was broken, and both boys end up crying. Bad morning.
Poor Chris has been going nutsy being inside with us all week, so we called Grandma and Aunt Teri to kidnap him for a play date for today, and that was great, gave us a chance to eat 11 a.m. Eric found this great recipe online for potato pancakes using leftover mashed potatoes. He made me these latkes for breakfast this morning, ok for Elevensies. But seriously, I so didn't feel like eating until my Darvies and the salt water kicked in, which was about that time anyway. Anyway, one perk of him being home all week is that he gets to make breakfast. He made french toast with our panera leftovers earlier this week, and today made leftover mashed potato latkes. He served it up with fresh strawberries and whipped cream (shmizz) to make it pretty. I tell you better than a restaurant...just to get me to eat. Good boy.

I decided that I cannot be trusted alone with both boys yet. Tomorrow morning Eric's got a run, and blessedly, he was able to talk his Mom into watching Chris so he could run. Well, since the run requires him to be downtown at some ungodly hour Mom is actually going to take him all night long tonight. Gotta tell you, that is super awesome. I'm hoping that my z-pack will work wonders and that by Monday the sore throat ramifications will be done, otherwise I don't know how I'll cope when Chris gets home from school. But I've had many offers of "Call me if you need anything" We'll see, come monday about 12:30, I might.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

It Has to Hurt if it's to Heal

What movie is that line from?
Don't tell Li.

I hurt.

The good news is this is all perfectly normal. Hooray?

We ventured forth for the first time yesterday, packing all 4 of us all into Eric's car, because the Windstar is in to get fixed. (I figured that this week would be a good time to get it fixed since I certainly won't be driving it, so we're using Eric's car, which thrills Chris to no end.) It was a beautiful sunny day, and something just seemed all right with the world having all 4 of us piled in the car as we jaunted around town. Life is good.If I hadn't felt so crappy I would've wanteed to do something familial and spring breaky like go to the park, have a picnic, or hit the zoo.

Anyway, back to my appointment, the report is I'm doing fabulous. My incision looks great. There's a really ugly bruise on my flab where they held my belly back while pulling Sam out, but even it is getting some yellow healing to it.
I mentioned that I was having bad burning pains on the left side of my scar, she said that was normal. I told her that it hurt to yell, and she said that was normal too. I told the folowing story:
I am trying not to take lots of pain meds so as to not render myself stupid, and so I can do things like carry the baby across the room, or remember my middle name. Anyway, Monday, I had done a decent job of only taking 1 vicoden at a time, and as long as I took it every 4 hours, I was doing ok. However, Monday night Sam slept for 3 hours, and I lapsed on my drug time, so that when I woke up my drugs had worn off, and I was NOT COMFORTABLE. So I bit the bullet, and took 2 vicoden, and went to nurse the baby. Well, it was one of those sessions where he drank for a while, and fell asleep mid-nurse, and woke up again 10 minutes later, wanting more. We've drawn the line at not nursing him more than once an hour, so Eric was bouncing and loving and distracting him so as to give me a bit of a break to heal a bit before being attacked again. Suddenly, I started to feel weird. Weird like passy-outy weird, I got waves of hot flashes, and weakness, a bit of queasiness. I had to have Eric get me a cool washcloth, I really thought I was going to pass out. I was worried, did I overdose? I only took 2 pills right? I'm supposed to take ibuprofen horse pills every 8 hours, and the vicoden every 4. What if I grabbed 2 of the 800 mg ibuprofens instead of the vicoden? Oh the number that would do on my stomach and liver. My mind was a fog, I was so sleep deprived, I began to doubt if I'd taken the right stuff at all, what if I OD'd on something else. It was scary. I debated calling for help, but who could I call, and what would they do. I was tired, I mean couldn't-get-up-off-the-couch Tired. But I started to get scared, what if I fell asleep and stopped breathing? Weird-the places your mind goes when you're sleep deprived and drugged. Eric was searching on the internet for symptoms, and he really thought that I was just Really Tired, not ODing, but just the drugs were Really doing their thing. My boy is so good, he stayed up for the next hour watching Sam and I sleep at 3 in the morning, sacrificing sleep for himself. I asked him to watch me, and he did. Yeah, I was fine, I was just tired. But the whole thing scared me enough I didn't want to take 2 vicoden pills again, and we started a written log of what I was taking and when (which was just smart).
But just taking 1 vicoden wasn't cutting the mustard for when I tried to be productive. Like showering. I could Take the shower, but when I stepped up out of the tub, shooting pains ripped through my abdomen, and I can barely lift my left leg.
Anyway I told the doctor this, and she asked if I wanted to switch to something else. Yeah. So she switched me to Darvocet. Just so happens I have that at home, take that for my back when it spasms, and I know I can take 2 of those without ill effects. (Funny how the vicoden didn't effect me like that in the hospital though...) So I'm on 1 Darvy and though I still have spasmy pains I'm doing better. It keeps the dysfunctional pain at bay.
The doctor also told me that "just because I feel like I can do something doesn't mean I should do it."
Yes Ma.
So, I'm doing ok, recovering slowly, but hurting.
Well, enough blogging for now, the baby awakes.

Oh, and I have a sore throat too.