Newborn Life: 4

Have you ever been so distraught that you just can’t talk? There were so many things I wanted to say before they took me away from Brock and Mason but I just couldn’t. Just seeing Brock holding Mason and still not fully knowing what was wrong with me, not fully knowing what the future held. I was starting to really wonder if I was going to be there for them after all this. I hugged them and told them I loved them but that was all. They took me away and it was the most excruciating pain I have ever felt. I got situated on the heart floor and there were 2 beds in the room. Apparently they still have roommates up there. Great, how am I supposed to pump with a 70 year old woman laying next to me? I was just separated from my family and now I have the anxiety of possibly having a roommate. It was 6:30 at night, I had ordered dinner mostly because I had to. I wasn’t hungry. I had called my sister and thankfully she was able to come at the drop of a hat and hang out with me. Visiting hours ended at 8:30pm and I just dreaded the time because I didn’t want to be alone. I watched her leave and go to her car. The pain of being alone was just too much. My night nurse had specialties in postpartum so I felt a little more comfortable with her. She apparently fought for me to be switched to a private room so I didn’t have to potentially have a roommate. I was so relieved. The next day I had settled into my new room on the heart floor but I still felt empty inside. I continued pumping with no baby in sight. I ordered breakfast, lunch, and dinner and none of it tasted good. The heart floor felt so lonely. They checked my blood pressure and gave me my meds but that was about it. And, the gosh dang nurses kept leaving my door open. I could hear other patients on the floor. They were old, crotchety, and all they talked about was going home. Man, all I talked about was going home. They had their loved ones with them but they were still just too upset. The hardest one was listening to an older guy who was actually convinced he was going home….but he wasn’t. I tried to be thankful for my situation, even though I still really had no idea what was going on. I just kept telling myself that I was strong and I was going to make it out. I really felt like I was in a mental institute because aside from my legs swollen, I really felt fine. I wasn’t constricted to my bed so I could freely move around my room. I was battling the mental aspect every minute. At least the swelling in my legs was going down. I had lost 8 more pounds. My sister was able to visit again and I appreciated it so much. A nurse had briefly mentioned “postpartum cardiomyopathy” but we still really had no idea what was going on with my body. There really wasn’t much to say, it was all just a waiting game.

And for now,

Xoxo