Thanks, Babe.

Bless Rodney's heart. He wheeled me around everywhere in that wheelchair. He was running around getting me things, helping me sit up, etc. I tried to be a good patient. "Rodney, thank you so much for pushing me around everywhere. Thank you, Rodney, for bringing me a drink. You're awesome. Thanks. Thank you, Babe. I really appreciate it..." I felt so completely and utterly dependent on him for everything. I like to consider myself an independent person. One of my biggest lessons through all of this has been that no, actually, I cannot do it all. I cannot do everything myself. As a matter of fact, I need quite a bit of help.


"You would do the same for me," he said. It's true. Sigh. That made me feel a little better.

Physically, I felt like I had been hit by a train. I had the biggest headache of my life from the spinal tap. My legs and feet swelled up beyond recognition. The doctor said I lost quite a bit of blood. I was very weak and light-headed. There was a piercing and burning pain in my midsection, especially my right side. I could not stand for longer than 30 seconds. I never realized how much and how often a person needs abdominals.

Thankfully, the pain meds helped quite a bit, but they had their side-effects of course. Rodney said he could tell when I had just had medicine from my blank stare, and when I talked, it was barely above a whisper. Before I was released, my nurse's medication policy seemed to be dependent on the question, "What level is your pain?"
"I dont know.... What level do you need it to be before you give me another one?"
When I had control over my medicine, I felt I had gained an ounce of power over my life, or at least 5 mgs.
I kept really missing my head band and my brush. But my hair was pretty much a lost cause and I still had no make-up on. None of my clothes would fit me, not even the ones that were fitting me three days ago.

Whose body is this? Not loving this Homer belly. Not feeling pretty, no not at all.

Rodney drove us home to pack a suitcase. Mom had arranged for us to stay in The Ronald McDonald House right next to the hospital, so we wouldn't have to drive to and from Tulsa every day. There was no way to know how long the babies would have to stay in the NICU. Some babies have to stay until their original due date. October 15? Oh, no. That would mean Rodney and I both would celebrate our birthdays this year at the lovely St. Francis Children's Hospital NICU, rooms 530 and 532.

Rodney arranged for our friends to take care of our poor lonely dogs at home. Two months??

Sigh

Can we please just see our babies now??