Surgery and Being a Mom Don’t Mix

This past Monday night was a pretty scary night for me. It had been a full weekend of family (between a family cook off and baptism)! My brother from California and his family were in town and the fun was just beginning.

Well, around 7:00 pm (while we were bathing the kids) my chest really started to hurt. I’ve had an attack like this before and just went downstairs to take some tums. A couple hours later and it still didn’t go away. I took a strong antacid and tried to sleep.

Around 1:00 am, when I still couldn’t sleep, I woke Adam up and he urged me to go to the ER. I declined for a bit, but thought it may be in my best interest. I drove myself to the ER and upon getting there and walking in I vomited three times. I checked myself in and all the tests began. They ruled out a heart attack (which I didn’t think it was), but wanted to check my gallbladder.

Ding ding ding! That was it. I had gallstones and needed to get it removed. Usually this is outpatient, but my blood was telling them that my liver enzymes and bilirubin was high. This told them that I most likely had one stuck in the bile duct. I had to wait a FULL 36 hours in the hospital before I was able to receive the test needed. I was PRAYING I didn’t have one stuck as this would have led to another procedure to take the stuck one out. They told me that if they had to do it there was a 1/20 chance that I would develop pancreatitis (due to my age). Let the praying begin.

Another 12 hours to get the results, but the stone passed and all I needed was the gallbladder out. Woo hoo!

The week in the hospital was rough. My mind went everywhere. I hadn’t eaten since 6:00 pm on Monday and I didn’t get out until 4:00 pm on Friday. It was rough. I missed my kids an insane amount and my breastmilk supply dropped.

Cece had to have formula. I know this isn’t a big deal to most. Fed is best and I understand that, but this was taken away in a very awful manner for me. I didn’t have a choice. I am working an insane amount to get it back. Right now she is a 50/50 baby.

I thank god I married the man that I did. He stepped up like I never thought possible. He was dad, mom, homemaker, provider and still came to see me everyday. He was and is being a wonderful man.

Recovery has started. It’s almost like I have to bond with my baby all over again (cue the tears). I can’t pick her up for four weeks and that’s going to kill me.

I count myself as one of the luckiest people on the planet though. I have an incredible husband, parents and in-laws that have gone out of their way to help and stay with me and wonderful friends who have checked in everyday and even brought over fun goodie bags (thanks, Erin!).

I now need tips and tricks to get my breastmilk supply up and running. Please help!!