Needless to say, we were in the hospital much longer than expected since I had a c-section. We checked in Saturday evening fully ready to be gone by Sunday, but after surgery I wasn't discharged until TUESDAY. Which meant having LESS sleep than I would have had at home, and the boys were left to fend for themselves the first part of the week. Poor Hayden, he just didn't understand why mommy and his new baby sister couldn't come home. Sunday was a blur of doctors, nurses, feeding, changing, sleeping, eating, visitors and the like. I remember being surprised that I wasn't in much pain. I think it was late Sunday evening before my incision finally started to hurt and I needed a pain pill.
By Monday, I was ready to go. My doctor came to visit; the attending doctor who delivered her came to visit; her pediatrician came to visit. Then there were the people who needed to record her information for the birth certificate, the nutritionist and for the love of God, the lactation consultants. Here's the thing. I breastfeed. I judge not people that bottle feed, but I choose to breast feed. I did it for six months with Hayden but am planning on going the full year with Lila. Is that enough for the lactation ladies? No. They want to hear all about her wet and soiled diapers, want to know how often and long I'm feeding, want to "score her latch" while she's feeding...here's an idea, how about "don't call us, we'll call you"? They drove me nuts. My favorite? Every time they checked her sheet and wrote down that she ate for 15 minutes an hour ago, they'd look over the list with pleasant smiles and nods. Then they'd get to the previous page and find out *GASP* what happened after she was born.
What happened is that her blood sugar was low. So low that they couldn't give her a bath because a drop in her temperature would cause it to go even lower. So while I was in recovery, they brought her to me to feed. She latched right on, but the poor kid was just too tired to eat. So they took her back and said we'd try again later. They called from the nursery and asked if they could give her a small amount of formula to try to get it back up. After six months of nursing Hayden, I'm not an expert. But I'm a lot more comfortable this time around, which means I'm not a purist. I'm not worried about "nipple confusion" or my c-section preventing us from "adequate bonding" or that the taste of formula will RUIN her for the milk I make. I let them give her a syringe of formula. I LET THEM FEED MY BABY FORMULA. Oh, the displeasure on their faces when they saw that! I feel like I could have told them I was a meth head and they would have been fine with it, as long as I was still planning to breastfeed exclusively.
The great thing about Monday was that Emily was there to have baby Link, and I got to go see her! I was ready to be up and at 'em and dressed and walking on Monday, so I walked down to her L&D room. Which, as luck should have it, had been my L&D room! Emily was excited to see me alive, as they had just told her a c-section was a distinct possibility for her. Nothing like seeing another Salem sister to make you even MORE excited about the birth of your baby! All told, I believe four Salem babies were born that weekend.
I did rather enjoy the room service experience, and my nurses that went to every corner of the hospital to find my cranberry juice. I was an easy patient, never paging them (why would I? They were in every hour regardless!) and my only request was the cranberry juice I had become addicted to since I was allowed liquids again...so they obliged. They kept saying how easy I was and how they wanted to do more...all I wanted was sleep and my own house. And the juice.
On Tuesday I expected to be kicked out by "check out" time at 11. So I ordered my breakfast early, packed us up, did my hair, etc. Jay got there at 10. Car seat was ready to be inspected. Lila was dressed. The only problem? No one seemed interested in discharging me on time. We waited and waited, and finally someone showed up. Oh wait, she's the picture lady. It was well after 1pm before my discharge doc came in, asked two questions and left. Then we had to wait again, for them to write up my notes and discharge papers. A little after 2, we were in the car and headed home. Without any cranberry juice for the ride. But with a sweet new girl snuggled in her seat, ready to go to her new house!
Now what?
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