First things first! A picture of Little Man for your viewing pleasure.
His name is William Patrick, named after my late-grandfather and my husband's late-father. We are calling him Will. My husband ordered customized M&Ms with his name on them to hand out at the hospital and when people come to visit, as our way of revealing the secret name.
We were discharged from the hospital on Saturday and have been home with various family and friends visiting throughout the week. It's been wonderful to have all of the help, as recovering from a c-section is no joke. But I think both M and I are looking forward to being alone as a family soon and really getting to know Will.
I have so many things to post about and really could make this a long entry. However, my services will soon be needed by a very hungry Little Man. I will try to get more things up in the next few days, but the only gray in this silver-lined cloud is that Will has some pretty bad jaundice and we have been taking him to the pediatrician's daily for blood draws. It's amazing, weight checks, and possibly starting tomorrow, we will have 24-hour phototherapy here at home. It doesn't sound like much, I am not even sure where the day goes, but go it certainly does!
Some things of note, which I will try to expand upon later:
My husband is the most amazing father. He was a changed man the moment they placed that baby in his loving arms. It is actually one thing that I am grateful for regarding the c-section, it has required him to do a lot of things that I would have otherwise done. He was scared about diapers, poops, swaddling, burping, etc., and is now far better at those things than I am!
There is the other side of the coin, however. Very much surprising myself, I have been having a lot of conflicted feelings about the c-section. I know, that sounds really whiny, but having some time to reflect, it all ties back into infertility. I wanted some part of this to be "natural," to prove that my body could do it. I'll get into the details of the section later, but I feel as if I didn't do enough to get him out on my own, and I will always regret that. C'est la vie, I know, but. . .
And finally, because this is my blog and I'll share too much if I want to: constipation after a c-section is awful. Truly, truly awful.
This is really an awful picture of me, but it was taken the day after, and I make no apologies because who really cares what I look like anyway?!