6 Weeks of Chaos

Well, we had a baby. An 8 lb., 15 oz., 22" long bouncing baby boy named Wriston Wade. Wriston was my paternal grandfather's middle name, and Wade was my maternal great-grandfather's middle name. (Their first names were Loy and Clancy, respectively, so we decided to go with middle names instead.) I think our Wriston will hold them up well.

And the best part? With him, I got my patience, my sense of humor, and most of my body back. It's like I'm a real person again.

I had him December 12th, we came home on the 14th, Christmas was a mere 11 days later and included seeing almost all of our families. My parents came down and hung out for a couple days, then returned the next weekend for New Year's (we were all in bed before 11 p.m., though). We spent the next couple weeks trying to get into a routine, although it was much more difficult than I had anticipated. The boys seem never to sleep at the same time, so that's a challenge. We have been more than blessed with great attitudes, though, so I will NOT complain -- Elijah has been an absolute JOY with Wriston. He calls him buddy, wants to help (but doesn't get upset when we tell him he can't), and has only shown the slightest sign of jealousy, and even that was easily assuaged. I am so proud of him. Michael traveled a little, and I realized that I am actually capable of doing this on my own. And just as I was starting to get a little confidence, my body decided to rebel.

Around midnight on the 13th, I started having really terrible stomach pain. This wasn't unusual during my pregnancy, but I had always chalked it up to the hyperemesis (and my babies having a lot of hair). The pain was pretty intense -- one attack while I was pregnant had me writhing on the floor and begging Michael to call an ambulance. This last one wasn't that bad, but it was pretty intense. I got up, took some fiber supplements and some Tums, and prayed for sleep. Eventually the pain subsided enough that I could rest, and I figured that this, like the other times, was a one-off occurrence and I would be better the next day. Too bad for me, the attacks lasted all. day. on Friday. After much searching on WebMD, a phone call to Bethany, and a visit to urgent care, I got an ultrasound that confirmed gallstones and guaranteed a quick surgery to have my gallbladder removed. I had to wait until the 18th, but out it came. My sister left her own family for 5 days to help take care of me, my mother came for 4 days, and then Michael left town and my mother-in-law came for 3. Because, you know, I hadn't used up all my favors from them when I was pregnant. Sheesh. 

A week and a half later, I am 97% back to normal, and soooooo ready to get back to my life... a life that doesn't revolve around my health and what I can't do. Not picking up Elijah for a week -- again -- may have been one of the most frustrating things I've been through so far. And poor Elijah... he must think his mother is a permanent invalid. He doesn't trust me much anymore, and we're re-learning our relationship. But that's an issue for another post. For now, I will pray for a smidgen of normalcy, a moment of undramatic, blissful quiet. Until it's not.