The actual procedure itself was fine and successful. I had much less bleeding than what I had imagined, and the physical healing aspect of the procedure went remarkable well. There were moments when I was quickly reminded of where I was. Here are a few of those moments:
A close friend had come to visit and drop off food for us. I was still coming out of the grogginess of it all and can remember little of what we spoke about. I was covered up but was self conscious about not having pants on. My body began to shiver- I thought that this was due to my awareness of not having pants on. I made the comment about me being really cold, which never, ever happens here! In the course of 2 hours I had spiked a really high fever. It seemed to have come from no where- just came right in and gave me intense whole body shakes. Josh called for a nurse and three followed him back. He asked them to check my temperature because I have a fever. They brought back a mercury thermometer, stuck it in my armpit for less than a minute, and pulled it out with a normal reading. Everyone in the room could feel that I had a fever, although I was shivering. With Fiona on the phone, Josh asked if he could use an alcohol wipe to clean the thermometer and put it in my mouth for a better reading. I could hear her yelling on the phone," No!! Do NOT put that in her mouth!! No!!" We found out later that those thermometers are used rectally to check the babies' temperatures, so really who knows how clean they really are! Josh ran across the street to the pharmacy to buy an unused thermometer so we could safely stick it my mouth. My fever was well over 103, and at that point the nurses realized something was going on. The only way my shakes would calm down was with the gentle, reassuring touch of a Papuan nursing intern. She would gently place her hands, which were warm and comforting, on my arms, which were freezing.
After discussions about the best course of action and rejecting medicine we (who have no medical experience) decided I didn't need, my fever began to go down after given a large dose of a fever reducer. During this time I went to the bathroom. The nurse tried to get me to use a bedpan- I have never used one before. In Indonesian the word for "bedpan" is "piss pot". I did not learn that term (along with many other medical terms) in language school! The nurse helped me to the toilet. My birthing experience with Kate was that when I went to the bathroom, the nurses changed out bloody disposable gauze sheets. That is not the case here. I returned to soiled disposable gauze sheets. That I could handle because we could easily throw that away and get another clean one- because we had to purchase all of those things before hand. What threw me off was the puddle of my own blood under the detachable bottom of the bed. This was from the procedure and had not been cleaned up. I only noticed it when I entered the room.
There was also a sweet concerned intern who was practicing her English skills in the midst of all of this. So we chatted about the schooling process required to become a nurse here. Let's just say that during our conversation she paired the word "juicy" with describing a body part. In my feverish state I don't think I busted out laughing, although now when I tell the full story I can't keep a straight face.
Due to the fever, it was recommended I stay overnight. This was not part of my plan. Karen's gracious response to this relieved so much stress. It would be our first night away from Kate, and this wasn't the ideal reason why. Knowing Kate was well taken care of made this momma's heart rest a little easier. Although resting did not happen. Josh and I argued about whether we should stay or go. This was interesting because it was in front of nurses- so I asked them to leave, I'm sure I had provided enough entertainment for the whole week. Looking back I'm proud of Josh- it's not easy to argue with me and even harder to win. I respected his reasoning and know it came from a place of love, although at the time I was really upset. We were moved to a private VIP room- which contained a *working toilet* with *toilet paper*. They brought in an extra bed for Josh. We tried to sleep. The fever returned in the middle of the night, and Dr. Josh did an excellent job of treating the patient with what he had. Sleep finally came around 4:30 AM, with the only check was a nurse who walked by and looked in our window at some point in the night. At 6 AM, the nurses crashed into our room with their metal cart, flipped on the harsh fluorescent lights, *pushed* Josh's bed out of the way (while he was still waking up) to get to the patient to check my blood pressure and oxygen level in my blood. We started the process of checking out of the hospital at 6:30 AM. Josh had to find the nearest ATM because the card reader was broken in the hospital. After agreeing to waive responsibility from the doctor to me, we were finally in the car heading home 3 hours later.
I felt like I had severe jetlag- headache, tired, cranky, sore muscles. It turns out I was also having a reaction to the antibiotics. Red, itchy skin. So we stopped all of the meds, pumped me full of Benadryl and waited. I took the max dose of Benadryl and was awake and alert until 2 AM Tuesday morning when my body finally crashed.
Tuesday was when the grief came. The grief hasn't lingered, but does return frequently. I have a heightened sense of awareness of all things pregnant around me- women, dogs, cats. I grieve over birth announcements that I won't be making with this Little One. Pinterest is still giving ideas of how to decorate a nursery along with baby advice, which I won't be needing now. I've heard people say in the past when speaking of a lost loved one that "not one day goes by that I don't think of you". I thought that was just something that was commonly said among those who grieve. Oh, how my attitude has changed. While I have never met our baby face to face or held them in my arms, I did carry them for 9 weeks and 1 day. I think about this Little One every day. Not all day, but every day my thoughts drift towards what life would be like or imagining the flutter of life in my belly. It's an interesting mixture of happiness and sadness. God is gracious and gives me hope. I would be lying if I said this leg of the journey wasn't difficult. My comfort has come from the Lord. It's hard not having your family around during a really difficult time. Life continued as normal and the days are long when you're left alone with a toddler. God is my comfort and continues to comfort.
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| Kitty Therapy |
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| The ER |
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| Ready for procedure |
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| IV |
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| Dr. Josh resting in our private VIP room |
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| The Patient waiting for freedom! |
Thank you to all who have reached out to us. Thank you for the words of encouragement and words of hope and healing. Your friendship and prayers are what have propped me up and helped me continue on when I would rather just sit down. Thank you just doesn't even seem to convey the depth of appreciation.
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