Owen's first 2 weeks

So, here we are, quickly approaching Owen's due date - Feb 13th. 

How's it going?

Well.. Owen is doing great. He is so sweet and little and cute. And, I have been just thoroughly enjoying him. That is made easier due to the huge amounts of help that we've been getting. Marco had the whole first week off. Then, he needed to work for 3 days during the second week, so his mum decided to fly up and stay for 4 days. The church has been bringing us meals almost every other day - although they are due to stop today. And, my sister arrives in 3 days, when Marco goes back to work again!! Honestly, every way I look at it, the timing of Owen's birth has been most excellent. It is so rare for Marco to have so much time off... 

Anyway, thanks to so much help, I have been just taking care of myself and Owen. Sounds a bit selfish, perhaps, but I know the exhaustion will come. I know the endless days of being on my own with 3 kids will come. And, I'm not in a hurry for them.

And, since Owen was born early and small, he's being a bit spoiled. When he wakes, I feed him, I burp him, I change him, I feed him some more, then I cuddle him. If I want to shower or eat (or blog), I put him in his bed, but otherwise he's been sleeping on me. And I've been laying on the couch. 

Every day at 1pm, I go to bed to try to sleep. So far, that hasn't been too difficult - when you're up every 2-4 hours all day and night, your body sleeps when you lay in vertical!! The plan was to sleep from 1-3 every day, but lately, Owen's been a bit sneaky, and decided to want to eat at 2pm every day. Not very nice, little boy. He's been a bit cheeky about family dinners too. For the last 3 days, as soon as dinner is announced, the little booger decides he wants some food. I suppose I should take this as a sign that it might be time to start finding a better routine for him - perhaps one set out by his mommy, who can tell time!! Especially since starting next week I'll have to do the preschool run by myself! Yikes!

Unfortunately, things aren't completely roses and butterflies around here. I've been doing great. I've been chipper. I've been up and doing stuff (but not too much). Until this past Wednesday (10 days postpartum) I had a bad day. Weepy, hormonal, and a bit sore. I figured that's all it was. Unfortunately, my bleeding which had tapered off, started back up with a vengeance. And then, after a restless sleep, when I got up to the 4am feeding, I found myself almost unable to walk because of serious stomach pains. So, as I lay on the couch in the lounge feeding Owen, I writhed and cried out in pain. Until finally, Marco woke from his sleep to see what the matter was. Frankly, it was a bit scary. The pain was WAY worse than anything labor brought - or probably just felt that way because it was so constant and without any cause or reason (that we knew of anyway). We contemplated going to the hospital - at least mum was still here, so we wouldn't have to wake up the girls. But, in the end, decided to wait till morning and make some decisions then. Around 8:30am, I called my midwife and let her know what was going on. She presumed it was "product" needing to be expelled. But, she called back in 15 minutes with an appointment for an ultrasound for later that afternoon. She also, dropped by around 10:30 to have a look and feel for herself and gave us a prescription for some antibiotics. The fear, at this point, is that somehow some placenta was left behind, which, in my understanding, would require a trip to the hospital. Not something you want to do with a newborn...
Anyway, Marco drove me to my ultrasound appointment that afternoon with all the kids, as he'd dropped off mum at the airport a few hours earlier. The technician didn't say much as she looked around, and in the end, told me she'd send off the pictures to a doctor for a diagnosis who'd then be in touch with my midwife. So, another long night of painful waiting.
By morning, the pain has subsided greatly. My stomach is still sore to the touch, and standing tall and straight is almost impossible. But I can sit upright (with a hunched back) and I can move without crying out in pain. 

My midwife called first thing this morning to pass along the diagnosis. Its not placenta remaining. Its just a blood clot working its way to be expelled. Time, she said. Time is what it would take. Ugh. Oddly, a surgery sounded more appealing.
But, hopefully, the antibiotics will do their thing and the ibuprofen will do its thing and I can start functioning again soon. Preferably by tomorrow... (patience is not one of my strong points!!)

So.. Owen is doing well. Me.. not so much, but should be better soon.