The First Days...

The first night in the hospital, we asked that Grady go into the nursery to give us a few hours of sleep. Because I was breastfeeding, a lactation consultant came into the room for his first time feeding to “ensure a good latch.” Yikes. This session took about 20-30 minutes of the consultant holding his head and basically ramming it into my boob, releasing, and repeating. By the end of the session, I was sweating, the consultant was sweating (her cigarette breath didn’t help the situation) and Rob was bug-eyed like, “What the f--- just happened?”

The nurse wheeled Grady away around 10PM. What felt like 10 minutes later, I hear a knock and someone say, “Grady’s here.” It took another two hours before we placed him back into his bassinet and Rob wheeled him back to the nursery. In additional to all of the returns to and from the nursery, I had to use the bathroom (doctor ordered) at least every hour and a half. I absolutely dreaded this time to myself. It was torture. On the back of the bathroom door, you have a nice reusable bag full of all the post-baby essentials; huge pads resembling adult diapers, a medium size, and ice packs… lots and lots of ice packs. You also have Epifoam which is like shaving cream, gauze, and witch hazel pads in case you created hemorrhoids for yourself while pushing out a nice 8-pounder. There is more disposable underwear in the bag, too… but I brought my own. I needed something to remind me that I’ll be okay again someday. Did I talk about that in my labor and delivery story? Let me bullet it out what happened after Grady’s birth:

- Deliver placenta

- Get stitched up

- Hold your baby for 5 minutes

- Get the epidural removed

- Give the baby to Dad

- Hold the nurses hand as she guides you/pushes you to the bathroom

- Hover over the toilet and try to pee as she stares at your vagina and spreads it open (yes, that happened)

- Watch your legs shake uncontrollably

- The nurse will pat you dry… don’t worry about wiping

- She will also re-dress you in your disposable underwear, ice pack, and big adult diaper-pad

- Stumble to the sink to wash your hands

- Walk like a drunken sailor back to the bed

- Crash into the bed

- Watch everyone else hold your baby and tell you how beautiful he is

- Wait for a wheelchair to take you to your next home for two days

 

Okay, I’m done. I could go on for days. I love lists.

                                       

So after the breastfeeding exam and assessment, they said Grady had a nice latch and I was improving with my approach. The next night was a repeat of the same in and out of the nursery, but I felt more aware of the nurses coming in every few hours to ask how my pain was and to check my vitals. I had low blood pressure (lower than my normal 170/75ish) so they were monitoring me a bit more frequently. After two nights, we were discharged around noon. Discharge is a process at a hospital; I think especially when you have had a baby. They throw a ton of paperwork at you, insurance information for your breast pump, and more post-baby bathroom essentials. Rob had to make two trips to the truck before we felt comfortable enough to pack Grady up and leave. We had to beg one of the nurses to help us buckle him into the car seat (What?! We’d never done this before!)

The ride home, I sat in the backseat making sure Grady kept breathing. I took this time to stare at him and text friends telling them they could come over that night to see him. They were all shocked I was up for visitors. I felt absolutely fantastic.

Little did I know, all hell would break loose within the next 24 hours.