Recovering

A long time ago, someone recommended not sharing my birth stories with other moms in our same group. They were good stories, amazing stories, and mostly short stories. Stories where God was a part of it. I fell into following leadership’s suggestion and didn’t tell my stories in case they made someone else sad or even jealous. It made me very self-conscious of my 6 babies, 6 live births, no miscarriages like we were freaks like God hadn’t done wonderful things. On 4/22 someone wanted to hear my stories. As a sat with my surgery manager she looked through the records I had with their practice. She rejoiced about the six babies who are not babies anymore. Six babies from January 2003 to August 2013. She loved their names. She was impressed with the labor times. She championed me. It felt so good.

I have a different story now going on 40. In May 2018 I thought maybe my pelvic floor wasn’t where it should be. I hear having lots of babies can have an effect on that.  My well-woman check-up said it wasn't and no reason was given for frequent trips to the bathroom. By October there was steady pain in my lower back and hip. In November there was blood in my urine. The urgent care put me on antibiotics. Three days later they called and said it was not a UTI. The chasing began. X-rays, ultrasounds, follow-ups, specialists. At my GYN it went from nothing to let’s have surgery in a few weeks. The pain was still there.

Yesterday I got a picture of the organ that grew and protected six babies. I saw my ovaries that provided the eggs. I saw the tubes that took the egg to the uterus. It was pretty cool but slimy. The plan was a robotic hysterectomy to remove the uterus, fallopian tubes, cervix and check out the ovaries that were plagued by endometriosis. In meeting with my surgeon and asking about his approach I finally got him to brag on himself telling us, “Yeah, I think I’m damn good.” This helped.

We arrived at FMH, a hospital that has always taken good care of us, at 6:45 a.m. after a shower of special hospital soap to keep my surgical area germ free. We were in the first room in a few minutes. IVs, vitals, air pumps for my legs to help with circulation then off to the OR where the anesthesiologist put me under.

The surgery went better than expected. The Dr. was able to leave both ovaries. He only made three incisions instead of the five he could have. I woke up. I have a lot of trouble with anesthesia. A LOT. I woke up and was nauseous minutes. Not enough anti-nausea plan. Recovery happens in a private room. Chris was there to greet me. The room was ours for 23 hours up until I got discharged or admitted.

I’m not a fan of hospitals. We didn’t stay around long with the babies often getting discharged the next day and being off about our business—coaching a basketball game, going to church, you know whatever. Chris and I had packed games and books and paper and pen. We were ready. As we met the staff, we found out what was needed for discharge: being able to pee, being able to walk unassisted, being able to keep liquids down. Seemed easy enough. We were out by 3:00. Doctor was pleased, nurses couldn’t believe how fast I could do everything. I’m the fastest discharge they’ve had.

I left without some of my parts. Parts I wouldn’t use again. Yes, I’m very excited to not have a period.  After baby 5 we were cautioned about having more. After baby six our OB strongly urged no more for my health. Chris had surgery. It worked out well because for the medication I take for my MS we can’t get pregnant so we were done.

We are home, and it is hard. I learned a lot about myself. I love food. I did a clear liquid only fast from Tuesday after dinner through surgery on Thursday morning. Due to the anesthesia, my stomach is still a little off. I was really hoping to be eating by now. I had plans for chicken and maybe a DQ blizzard. I did lose 6 pounds with the cleansing pre-surgery preparation. I’m sure it’s all back with the bloating going on. I learned I like to divert and deny. Instead of setting the house up for my recovery I went out both days into the sun and saw animals with friends before my surgery. However, no children were yelled at because I was not feeling grumpy and stressed. I was happy and distracted. I learned (reinforced) that I am bad with waiting. I get really nervous up until the event. Whatever it is—a game (coaching, playing, or officiating), an appointment, surgery, labor. I don’t like suspense. Once it starts it’s all good though.

Everything hurts. There’s bloating and bruising. There’s a dry mouth from the anesthesia. There’s a sore throat from the breathing tube and shortness of breath. There’s a move to keep the lungs clear and strong to avoid pneumonia. (Great. Did you know pneumonia is my greatest fear? People with MS don’t do well with pneumonia.) There’s pain in my shoulders from gas leaving my body that was used to expand my belly during surgery. There’s lack of appetite until the anesthesia wears off. How am I feeling? Home. That’s how I’m feeling. Home is a feeling. No fever. No gross discharge. I’m stiff. I’m sore, but I’m home. God heard our prayers. I am thankful.