Still home

I had been hoping to return to work this week.  I get my drainage tube taken out tomorrow morning, so technically I should be able to return to work on Wed.  I had been feeling pretty bad until I decided to stop being a martyr and take the drugs that were prescribed for me.  I took one yesterday before going out to dinner, and couldn't believe how much better I felt.  Or, as I said to Jason later, I could have been just as uncomfortable, I just didn't care about it anymore.

Vicodin rocks.

Now I feel much better.  However, Jason did point out to me this morning technically I'm not supposed to be driving while I'm under the influence of narcotics.

Well, damn.

I thought of doing it anyway, until around 1pm today.  I'd been up since 6am, getting various things done, and crashed.  I slept for an hour and felt much better.

If I still can't make it through the day without a nap, I can't go back to work.  So it looks like one more week of recovery for me.  Better safe than sorry, I know.  And I also know that my hematoma happened only a week after my first surgery, so it isn't as if I'm 100% healed and everything is groovy.  I ended up adding an extra week to my entire recovery.

But I will say it again:  despite the second emergency surgery and the continued pain and discomfort, I am so glad that I had this done.  For the first time in three years, I don't look pregnant.  Those who know me 'in real life' probably would laugh at that, but its true.  I'm not a very big person, which made the diastasis all the more visible.  It was actually painful to not have any abdominal support and I would wince whenever Zev would sit on my lap or I would bump into something with my stomach.  Granted I'm now extremely swollen and numb, am stuck wearing compression garments that suck everything in, and definitely don't have abs of steel, but even if that didn't completely heal and this was the best I got...I'm still glad I did it.  I never had bad body image until this diastasis, and I am finally feeling better about myself.  I finally feel like 'me' again....I can recognize myself in the mirror.

Totally worth it.

I am still upset that I can't be as interactive with my children.  Meorah is now cruising along furniture...we'll have a walker pretty soon.  And Tzelia is starting to leave her 'lazy' stage and crawl around a bit more....just an army crawl, but at least she's moving.  Zev is....Zev.  A friend of mine commented that I didn't mention him that much in an email to her (although I talked a lot about the girls), and my response was:  he's two.

He's a pain in the ass.  He refuses to listen, hates hearing the word 'no', and while he doesn't 'lie', he isn't always truthful either.  He's just two.  But then he'll be adorable and you just have to forgive him.

Until you want to kill him again.

Unfortunately as he gets 'better', the girls will be approaching two.  Two girls who are two.

And we'll really be screwed.