I think the worst part was the nausea from taking vicodin on an empty stomach. I sipped some ice water, the first water since the night before, and my stomach took a tailspin. Have I ever mentioned I don't deal well with nausea?
Even after the nausea medication kicked in, I pressed my head against the pillows and cried, feeling very sorry for myself. I missed my children, I whimpered for my mama. I kept thinking that this whole surgery wasn't worth it. So what if I had issues down there. Just leave them be and get on with my life. A life without restrictions and pain.
When I arrived home yesterday, Anna took a little time to look at me and love me again. Ben, on the other hand, was quite pleased to see me. He ran right up to me and climbed in my lap.
I'm swollen and tender, and I feel some tugging every once in a while, but I'm okay. I'm still not glad I went through with it, but I hope that once things are back to normal down there, I'll feel better about having it done.
My doctor reported that he had never seen a woman my age with such poor tissue integrity down there. Such superlatives don't help, but they do explain why I'm a bit of a freak.
My comforts: