The Day I Had Two Labours - Part 3 -

I don’t know how else to describe this period other than that: sad and neverending. This infection felt impossible to kill. Did I need new antibiotics? Was the treatment even working? Would there be surgery after all? Meanwhile at home, Jalil was caring for our newborn and toddler over Christmas break. Both kids at home, the rainiest weather ever, no one’s in town, mom’s sick in the hospital… My toddler clung to him, and family members flew in to help care for Bunny. I watched the kids sleep on the Nanit app… and my heart just ached. Jalil was trekking back and forth to the hospital twice a day, bringing me clean bottles while I gave him my pumped milk. It was the one task that gave me purpose each day. Other than that, I spent my days disassociating as much as possible. Lots of Netflix. Lots of sleeping. It was too painful to think about what I was missing at home. Christmas came and went, our anniversary came and went, and New Year’s Eve was around the corner. But I wasn’t healthy enough to go home. We were getting frustrated. I was starting to feel like I truly lived in the hospital now. I knew the cadence of all the shift changes, and when to expect my meals on a tray. Friends visited with treats to cheer me up. And I was even starting to like hospital food… We decided to take more action. Waiting around was destroying us. So I got a second drainage procedure. This time, the drain stayed in me for 3 days. I had also completed my 10 day course of antibiotics. So we decided I’d stop taking medicine or painkillers to see if my fever came back, or if my body could take care of the rest of the infection on its own. The morning of January 2nd, I got the results I’d been hoping for: my white blood cells were still elevated but close to normal. I could go home. I hugged the sweet nurses goodbye and thanked them in my terrible Spanish. They signed my paperwork with hearts and celebrated with me as Jalil and I finally walked out of the hospital. I had dreamt of getting in a taxi and going home… and here it was. I arrived home to both babies napping, and I finally got to be there for them when they woke up. My son would turn to me every now and then - “Hi mama, you better?” - just to check that it was real. I was home. The tree was still up. Everything got paused while I was away. So a few days later, we celebrated my husband’s birthday and Christmas all on the same day. It was all I had wanted for my maternity leave… simple family moments. And I knew I’d never take a Christmas break for granted again.