Aftershock

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (Isaiah 41:10)

My doctor says the first thing I said when I woke up was, " I woke up?" He told me that the infection was so bad that if we had just waited a few more hours, things would not have turned out well. In other words I would have died. I didn't know at that moment that getting through surgery was just one obstacle for me. In post op my blood pressure started getting into the 180' and my heart rate the 150's. They tried for over two hours to stabilize me, with no luck. Finally after two hours they brought Richard to be with me in post op ( the restricted area...whatever) and within 20 minutes my blood pressure started going down enough to move me to a room. However, my fever kicked in and thus began my fighting off a serious infection that had spread through my body.

I don't remember too much about my time in the hospital. I was fairly well drugged and spent most of my time either sleeping or watching CNN and the earthquake in Japan. I refused to eat anything but Italian Ices.I remember feeling so deeply for those people and thinking just how insignificant my tragedy was compared to theirs. I was so blessed to have four beautiful children. I felt selfish to feel sorry for myself when there people across the world were losing everything they had, their family members and home. I watched their entire lives literally washing away on the screen in front of me.

My mother in-law had come to stay with the kids. After the first night they were wondering where mommy was and my husband and his mom decided to sit them down and tell them what happened to the baby. I was so thankful that the kids were being looked after and even more thankful that I did not have to see their reactions to the bad news. I knew they would be heartbroken. Knowing that made my heart hurt more.

After a couple of days on IV antibiotics, my doctor finally came to me and said if my fever did not stay down and spiked again the next day he was calling in infectious diseases. I was terrified. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be home with my husband and kids. More importantly I was worried that I might never get to do that. So I decided enough was enough I was going home. My nurses came in and packed my bed with ice and covered me with blankets. I refused any fever reducing medicine. I was going to get rid of this fever once and for all. I prayed and prayed and prayed until I fell asleep.

I woke up around 4am drenched in sweat. My fever had broke. I just needed it to stay that way. When my nurse came in she cautiously optimistic that the fever was permanently gone and I would be doing better from there. My doctor gave me permission to go home the next day if I went the entire day with no fever. I had to spend the next 3.5 weeks on antibiotics etc, but at least I could do that at home. I was so happy to be in that van riding home. I thought home was going to make me better. I thought being with my kids would help me begin to heal.

When I walked up to the front door there were signs made by the kids that their Aunt Stephanie helped them do for me. They were so cute. The kids were ecstatic to see me. But I felt nothing. In fact it felt surreal to me, like I was watching myself come home to my family. I assumed it was from being sick, weak, exhausted and did my best to sit with them and talk to them for a few hours before I went to bed. It was an agonizing few hours. Here I was with these adorable kids who wanted to smother me with their affection and I found myself wishing I was back in the hospital. I had made it through the fight for my life, but did not know that the real fight was just begining.