And then the day came faster than I could blink.
The night before my surgery, I had so many things I wanted to take care of. I wanted to make our bedroom a clean and organized little sanctuary, as that is where I imagined my recovery taking place. Cuddled up in my cozy bed, and with all of my necessities right next to me on my night stand, just steps away from my nice open bathroom. But after a great chat with my mother in law that evening, she quickly changed my mind about my decision because of the fact that my bedroom is approximately 22 steps UP to the second story of our house. Oh yeah. That probably wasn't gonna happen. Plus, the thought of being completely isolated from my family for DAYS sounded awfully depressing. So Matt and I quickly chose a couch on our main level that would be my cozy little resting nest during recovery, where I could still be near the activity of my little ones, but still rest as much as possible, and be steps away from our half bathroom (since a shower wouldn't be necessary for an entire week. I know. I'll get to that).
After we laid the kids down to bed on Thursday night, I explained to them that I wouldn't see them in morning, as I held back my tears. Quinn is still young enough that she didn't fully grasp what I was explaining, but Sydnie and Parker had a few questions. First, without going into any detail after they asked why I wouldn't be there, I told them that I'd be going to the doctor where he would be helping Mommy fix her tummy, since she had some "boo boos" leftover from when they were inside of my tummy. (I didn't, and still haven't, used the word "surgery" because I just don't think it's something their little minds need to wonder about). Sydnie was mostly concerned with the fact that, since Matt would be taking me to "the doctor" early in the morning, that they would be left alone. But I assured her that Grammy would be there in the morning before they were even awake, and before the sun was even up, and that Daddy would be back right in time to get them dressed, ready, and off to school just like normal.
Once they slept, I showered, washed my hair, shaved my entire body (since I knew it'd be a solid week until the next I could), blew my hair dry, and gave myself a pretty legit beachy wave hairdo. Hey, gotta go into the next chapter of your life with bangin' hair, am I right, or am I right?
And I packed my bag for the recovery center, which included:
- Zipper front sports bra
- Underwire bra (doctor prefers underwire for breast lifts)
- Juicy velour track suit that I haven't worn in at least 4 years, lol
- Toothbrush/ toothpaste
- Hairbrush
- Face wash/ moisturizer
- Converse shoes
- Neck Pillow
- Phone Charger and cell phone
I fell asleep around midnight that night with the help of an anti-anxiety pill my doctor prescribed to me for the night before, so I could rest peacefully. And I would have taken it sooner, but I couldn't drink ANY water after midnight OR in the morning when I woke up, so I chugged water that night for as long as I could, haha!
The morning of came quicker than I thought it would. I woke up at about 5am to my alarm, and was calm. I washed my face and brushed my teeth, got some last minute things tidied up before my mother-in-law arrived at 5:45 (just to stay at the house with the kids while they slept), so Matt and I could get to the surgery center up in Scottsdale by 6:30.
The center is beautiful, and Matt and I felt super comfortable right away (my doctor's office was just next door, but we hadn't seen the actual surgery/recovery center until that morning). We were greeted warmly, and were taken into a small room by my nurse to fill out some paperwork. We met with the anesthesiologist first, and went over the details and what to expect. And then my amazing doctor came in for the fun part. THE MARKINGS! One of the biggest reasons I fell in love with Dr. S was the fact that he's a perfectionist. He HATES visible scars, and makes sure to tuck away any incisions he can under the undergarments YOU wear. He wants his patients feeling confident, and still able to live their lives, by the pool, on the beach, in fitness competitions, whatever the case may be. So he told me in advance to bring the tiniest bikini bottom or pair of panties I own, so that he can put the incision mark underneath them. LOVE LOVE LOVE. So I brought the tiny "PINK" brand thong style that I always wear, and sure enough, he marked me up right underneath the top of the panty line. My breasts were also marked up quite a bit. We chatted about what to expect, and that he would take good care of me, and I trusted him fully.
From then, it went pretty quickly. My sweet nurse walked Matt and me down the hall to the operation room, and that's where I hugged and kissed my sweet man. The emotions started to set in as he went toward the exit, and I headed toward the bright lights in the room right ahead of me. The operating bed was nice and warm, and they got me very comfortable with some small talk right away. When my nurse put my IV in, and chatted me up about where I'm originally from, and how many little ones I have, I knew she could see my eyes filling with tears. It was just the fear of "This is it now" that hit me. The last thing I can remember is telling my anesthesiologist that I used to live in Central Florida. And that was it. It was time.
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What I remember about that first day and night after surgery is not very much. I was in a beautiful recovery room, with the sweetest nurses ever. I was thirsty, but had very little appetite, which I'm sure was to be expected. I was fed shaved ice pieces and freezing cold water, and was on some of the most incredible pain medication, haha! Once I did feel a little like eating closer toward the evening, I had crackers, tea, and jello. Matt was able to come back between 4pm and 7pm, and I hardly remember him being there, as I was so incredibly tired and groggy from the anesthesia. But knowing he was there was comforting. He gave me sips of water when I needed it, and just sat with me.
By about 2am, after being very in and out of sleep from having my blood pressure, temperature, pain levels, and leg pumper things (inflatable wraps that help to prevent blood clots in the legs) checked, my catheter (sorry if that's TMI friends!) was taken out, and I was told I'd need to get up to use that bathroom. That first time moving was AWFUL. Excruciating even. It took me and two nurses to hoist me into a seated position. I walked fairly well to the toilet, and peed! HOORAY! lol.
Dr. S came to see me at 7am the morning after surgery, and opened up all of my bandages.
I could NOT believe I was looking at what is now my body. I held a mirror as he showed me all of the details, and what he did here, and what he did there, and I just kept saying, "Thank you." I still don't know if he knew how much those moments with him meant to me.
There is still so much swelling, and of course I will have these wires from my pain pump that looks like a freaking fanny pack, and these drains (oh, these fucking drains. I hate them) until Friday. And the swelling will take weeks and months to fully disappear. But what I already see is just beyond my wildest imagination.
I still have a bit of pain, but it does get better with each passing day. And I miss sleeping in my big cozy bed, but until then, I can't complain too much about my little nest here in the living room!
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