Wounded

Yes, the Birth of Andrew itself was quite a process, requiring a long, intense post. The Recovery from the Birth of Andrew requires one as well. Momma and Drew really worked hard at the breastfeeding thing while recovering in the hospital, but the little tyke still lost 14% of his birthweight by the time we went home. This was on a colostrum diet, not actual breastmilk, though, so the docs weren't really worried. Plus, Drew wasn't too jaundiced, so home we went. And within a couple of days of feeding on actual breastmilk, Drew was starting to put on the ounces. That's about the time that Momma's health took a dive. Spiked a fever, intense abdominal pain, fun.

Out to the ER we went on the coldest, rainiest night of the fall, with Andrew all bundled up. He was the hit of the ER, charming everyone, male and female. Momma, however, was stashed in a room and ignored as she wasn't a heart attack or head wound (I do understand triage, and I don't blame the ER staff a bit) until she started all but screaming in pain. That got everyone moving. And that also brought the needles. The ER guy was a pro, though. Stuck me on the first try on my wrist to get both the blood he needed and my IV set up. Even with my husband and son in the room with me, I was about ready to kiss that guy.

Several hours and a CT scan later, the pain was manageable thanks to some drugs, and it was revealed that I had a hematoma around my c-section incision. That and they were fairly certain I had endometritus (uterine infection). To make sure that I wasn't also harboring a blood infection, they needed more blood. A LOT more blood. Four techs and six sticks later, they got it, and I received several more colorful bruises on the backs of my hands. Then they ran some antibiotics through my IV to start fighting the infection and sent me on my way.

A couple days later, the doc said the hematoma was rather normal, that most patients got them after similar surgery, that the body would reabsorb the blood, that I just needed to take it easy and let the antibiotics fight the infection and my body do its thing. Then I felt really good the next day and decided "taking it easy" could involve moving around the house for an hour or so, getting things put away from the hospital visit and cleaned up a little for my mother's visit. That night I noticed that my incision from the c-section had started to bleed. Back to the doctor we went the next day, my mother in tow fresh off the plane. Doc opened the incision a little more and packed some gauze in the sucker. Turns out the hematoma would rather bleed out through my incision instead of reabsorb into my body like a nice pool of blood.

A few more days and another trip to the ER later, and about two-thirds to three-quarters of my incision has been opened up, cleaned out, and is packed regularly with silver nitrate and gauze. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have an open wound on my abdomen. Right now I'm very happy about the extra belly flab hanging around that prevents me from seeing the damn thing, although it's nice that the belly has diminished enough that I can now see my knees and feet (and, man, is it ever so nice to no longer have horribly swollen feet and ankles). We're thinking that the hematoma was fairly severe due to all the effort needed to pull my darling son from my body and that my bout of activity just sort of helped it get going with what it was going to do anyway. I go to the doctor's once a week for checkups on the thing, and a wound care specialist visits me three days a week for expert cleaning, packing, and dressing. I'm only allowed to shower just before her visits. It's not too painful, though, which is nice. Just some occasional stinging and pulling at the skin that's uncomfy. I'm just hoping that the rest of the incision remains sealed and doesn't zipper open like the doc and the wound care nurse think it will. It's not necessarily a bad thing if it opens all the way, just means more wound to clean and pack. But it would be nice to give my body some sort of victory in this.

The doc won't let me go back to work until the wound is completely healed. So my return date for work is up in the air again, pending the progress of my healing. The good news in that is that I can stay at home with Andrew on disability pay for as long as the doc says I still need healing time. The bad news is pretty simple: who wants to take a long time to heal from anything, let alone an open wound in the abdominal region?

So that's been my life since Andrew showed up (minus one other health issue that I'll reserve for another post once I get more info on it; you didn't expect the health fun to stop with just a flesh wound, did you?). Again I say, he's worth it. I'm not the happiest camper to be going through this experience, and believe me when I say it's pretty rare. But all I have to do is hold my little guy and things feel better.