What a week! I should be home enjoying my beautiful baby girl but instead ended up in the ER Monday night with a gall bladder attack. Then 3 straight days of blood work to find out if I had a blockage. Good news is - all signs point to no blockage, so I can wait to have surgery for 4-6 weeks.
In order to confirm that, I started with another round of blood work yesterday morning. Luckily the woman who knows my crazy veins insisted on doing it, so I didn't have to "train" someone new. Then a CAT scan to check for inflammation, etc., due to some lingering pain.
I thought that'd be the easiest part of my day, but they had to do an IV for additional contrast and a better image. What a nightmare! My veins had given up after all the blood work. They had to use Novocain to numb my arms and search for a vein. Ironically the Novacain shot was one of the worst pains I've had (and I've been through labor and gall stones in the last 2 weeks). I had them get Mark from the waiting room. I usually just go to my appointments alone, but I think I had reached my breaking point. I needed to be taken care of. The nurse went out to get him, and I desperately watched the open doorway. Seeing him walk in was almost like seeing him at the end of the church aisle on our wedding day. I knew we were in it for the long haul. He held me through two more IV attempts. I gave up and just cried. Third time worked, they finished the scan, and I was done.
Then the nurse said, "With the IV contrast, you may not want to breast feed for 24 hours due to possible adverse reactions to the baby."
Well that would have been nice to know... yesterday. I had pumped some milk for E to get through the morning of appointments but definitely not 24 hours worth. And E had finished that batch about a half hour ago with my mother-in-law in the waiting room. I quickly brought her upstairs to the birthing center where she had been born two weeks before. By then, she was screaming, pulling my collar down, and trying to eat through my shirt. I was crying just as hard. The poor nurses looked a little overwhelmed but set us up with some formula for the night.
I was torn... I wanted to breast feed, but after the day (and week) I put in, I gave her to my in-laws with the formula and headed to my appointment with the surgeon.
He was a wonderful man and made me feel like everything would be ok. In the waiting room after, E was sleeping happily after some formula. I felt such a mix of emotions - guilt for temporarily stopping breast feeding, happiness that my child was happy, and relief knowing that I'd be ok.
More than that, I just wanted to sleep. Thank God for my in-laws who got us some dinner, and watched E when we got home, so we could sleep for a few hours.
Everything seems better today - if all goes well, no more hospital appointments until February. At that point I'll schedule my surgery...
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