So I had to dictate to Doug last night, I was so exhausted. Making me walk. Who do the fool doctors think they are, slicing open my abdomen and then telling me to get up on my own out of bed to go to the bathroom? For crying out loud. Pain is mostly under control with alternating Tylenol #3 and Motrin, hoping tomorrow I can just operate on one or the other. I've also been told to drink 3 big jugs a day of water. Whew!
Roman is doing fine as a big brother. Yesterday he was too afraid to touch Charlie in the incubator; today he put both his hands in and "cupped" him (one hand on head, one hand at feet). That was really neat to see. I spent about 1-1/2 hours just holding Charlie on my chest, in "skin to skin" contact as they call it, so he can hear my heartbeat and voice. The nurse said he was very stable, just small, so I can come up anytime and hold him. I still vary between wanting to nurse my own wounds and just hold him all day. I suspect they will kick me out of this fine establishment on Monday, but Doug is hoping for Tuesday.
This morning was a pretty rough one; having been transferred late on Friday evening, and then Doug went home to be with Roman, it was a strange place and strange situation. The nurse came in and kind of looked around... they hadn't read my "case" and I'm sure she was wondering where the heck my husband and baby was. When she asked, I said in the NICU, and then she was all very supportive... but just that answer drained me. She then asked if someone was coming "to be with me" and of course they were... but I lost it, started crying. I didn't even have the phone number to the NICU to call and ask how Charlie was doing... all this before 7am is not pretty. Especially when crying hurts an incision. So my Mom & Dad quick came from the house and spent the morning with me, while Doug and Ro spent some boy-time together. Much better this afternoon, and I'm hoping for a somewhat-restful night's sleep... because tomorrow, I should shower. And that won't be pretty either!