Saturday, February 7, 2015

Stand Up for...

I woke up at 3:30. Almost on the dot- I was staring at the clock and began to holler. Not yell. HOLLER. 

"Where's my baby?"
"Is she ok?"
"Is she healthy?"
I imagine I woke up anyone sleeping or in a coma within a 10 mile radius. 

After being answered by my 2 sweet nurses, I then proceeded with...
"I'm gonna be siiiickkkkk..."

Nope. Back to sleep. 

I then woke up a bit later in my private room with Andy next to me and the tv on. This was great. Then they introduced me to my best friend for the next 24 hrs. The morphine pump. This was fabulous. In came my healthy 7lb 10oz 18.5 inch long baby girl. This was perfect. 

In came my parents. Wonderful. In came his parents. Great. In came grandparents and aunts and uncles. Good deal. Not much I remember about that except The Voice was on and it was the night that Craig Wayne Boyd sang Old Rugged Cross. That's about all except for how I felt. The ultimate relief. 

I was told later I kept pressing my button and my eyes lingered around the room in a daze. I'm sure that was a sight. I almost wish I could've been a fly on the wall to see it. Ha! 

No what really made me laugh was when the night nurse came in at 1am telling me it was time to stand up. 

I thought she had lost her mind. How on earth was I going to do that? Actually much easier than I anticipated. I had to do a little more work to brace myself and pull up on the side bar of the bed, but what felt like centuries later I was standing. Standing sooner than later made things much much much easier honestly. The sooner I stood, the sooner I could try to walk, the easier the recovery. True story. Anyone who has a section- do not question them or think they're horrible people because they're trying to make you get out of your bed. Seriously, it's for your own good. 

The next day I had Andy walk me around the nurse's station every few hours. Each lap became easier, each up and down from the bed became easier, and the light at the end of the tunnel became brighter. 

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