Parenting in a hospital room

J.T. did an awesome job with Isabella overnight.  She woke up off and on.  He would hand her to me.  I would feed her.  He would change her, swaddle her (he is a master swaddler) and put her back down or hold her.  Neither one of us slept very much (shocking I know!) and as the sun began to rise I was totally looking forward to getting out of bed.

Normally they allow c-section patients to leave their beds 12 hours after surgery.  Of course, I got to be the exception to the rule (insert eye roll).  My stomach was apparently distended which they did not like so much.  As a result I was trapped in the bed without food or water (what is this prison?!?) until they were totally sure I was not headed back to the OR.

Our parents rolled in the next morning bright and early and while they breathed in their new granddaughter also provided J.T. with some assistance as the only mobile parent.  Isabella slept off and on during the day.  I would feed her and pump (apparently c-section births often result in a delayed milk supply so they were helping me get a head start).   Then someone would change her, hold her and lay her down.  She was definitely on the upper end of the sleepy-o-meter for newborns:).

The morning drug into the afternoon and finally at 4:00 I was given assistance to get out of bed, permitted a liquid diet, AND I even got to shower!  That dinner of Jello, Italian Ice, Sprite and chicken broth might have been the most delicious meal I had ever eaten.  While my belly felt better, my legs were wrecked.  Attached to my body were a pair of legs normally seen on an elephant.  They were so swollen I could not straighten them at the knees.  Apparently it is normal given the length of my (attempted) labor, c-section, and then additional fluids given throughout the day.  Normal, but by far one of the strangest sensations I had ever experienced (of course that bar had just been increase 100 fold over the previous 48 hours!).

C-section births require a three night stay in the hospital (our first uneventful night, of course did not count).  So Friday into Saturday brought about much of the same, but this time we were in the hole two nights of sleep.  As a result, when the nurse came into check on us at about 2am she saw J.T. was dead to the world, I was likely dozing in a chair holding Isabella and quickly deduced now was the right time for Isabella's health assessment.  When she asked I immediately said yes and traded in my tiny girl for a measly hour (well actually less since nurses were still in and out monitoring me) of sleep.  This makes me normal not a bad mom, right?!?  If you believe it's the latter, please feel free to not to respond!

Saturday brought the return of family and more eating, bodily functions, and sleeping for Isabella.   For her parents it brought an opportunity for J.T. to go out to eat with his mom and visitors for both parents.   We also took a few walks around the floor which was encouraged to allow my legs to begin to drain.  Of course my footwear choices consisted of the x-tra large socks provided by the hospital or the large men's flips flops my mother-in-law had to go out and buy me since the ones I came in wearing were too small for my monster feet.   And for the nursing staff it brought nearly a whole day of questioning from me when I could have real food:).

I will pause here and sing accolades of our hospital staff.  They were amazing.  Even though we ended up at the very bottom of the rabbit hole I went in intending to avoid, it wasn't because they pushed me.  They provided me opportunities at every pass and what I had in mind simply wasn't in the cards.  Also, the nurses (they changed shifts every 12 hours so we had a bunch), anesthesiologists, and other support staff answered my gazillion questions, laughed at my stupid jokes, and were genuinely supportive every step of the way.

Finally at around 6pm I was given the all clear for a regular diet and the Cobb salad my mom and brother went out and brought back was the second most delicious meal I had ever eaten behind the previous night's feast:).  Things were looking up and our sweet girl truly has an amazing temperate.  She really only cries when her diaper needs changing or she's naked...little miss prim and proper:).  That being said we couldn't wait to get sprung and head home with baby girl on Sunday.