Wednesday, July 25, 2012
One of my nurses Bernie
So, it’s been two weeks post my surgery to remove my gravity stricken uterus and return my bladder and pelvic floor to their original places. Sort of like an interior makeover (just my luck, a makeover no one can see).
Anyway, sitting on my industrial-strength orthopedic seat cushion ring because my ass hurts, I was reminded of the last time I was forced to sit on the cushion ring. It just so happens, it was the last time I had a tenant living in my uterus, some 17 years ago.
Only that time it was a Batman swimming pool float ring borrowed from my nephew. I needed it greatly after a horrific episiotomy because I had given birth to a toddler. Yes, a labor so long we saw for four shift changes, three doctors retirement parties and two hospital grand reopening’s . When it was all said and done my toddler/ baby and I walked out of the hospital together holding hands.
This is just the blogger version of this story to tell about the birth of my second child. It’s rather a lengthy tale teeming with twists and turns, an unyielding roller coaster ride of emotions that could rival Homers Odyssey. But that’s for another time.