giddy-up.

My mom went home this morning.  My mother-in-law is still with me.  They both have worked so hard cleaning, unpacking, cooking, folding laundry, caring for my children.

I'm pretty sick of writing a blog about ME and my surgery.
When I was on bed rest a friend of mine delivered her baby.  She had Percretta, like I did, and I remember just waiting and waiting for her to be healed and happy again.
It took so much longer than I expected it to and I was impatient for her.

My own recovery has been WAY slower than hers was.  I am even more impatient for me.
I really am going to start posting more non-medical stuff.
Because there are picturesque moments happening all around me-- I need to see them again.
I need to dust off my camera and just enjoy these moments.

But, I'm still going to write about my recovery.  Because I'm all bottled up inside and I need to think this stuff out.
Please stick with me as I sort through my brain.  I think that I need this space to digest my feelings so things can clean out a little.  You know?

I was desperately hoping that yesterday would fix me.
It is hard to hear details about my surgery.  It's hard to see pictures of my insides littered with purple stitching, rods or stents that shouldn't be there, staples-- lots of staples.
(My x-rays look like someone just took a stapler and stapled 100 staples in a big clump.  I was surprised they let me through airport security.)
I have the surgical notes from my surgeries and it describes some really scary things.
For one thing, I learned that my Iliac artery was cut. 
The Iliac comes down from your Aorta- the Aorta changes to the Iliac when it branches to two parts.  My right Iliac artery was cut and bleeding for two days.  They were able to repair it during my second surgery. 

When your placenta seeps out of your uterus, there are lots of things for it to get stuck to.
My right Iliac vein was cut and my left ureter got caught in a stitch.
blah.

If I had permanently lost blood flow to my Iliac, I would have lost blood flow to my legs and bum.
I'm not sure you can live like that... but I understand a little better why my legs took so long to wake up and why my right side is still giving me a hard time.

Thinking about my old surgery, anticipating my new surgery, and hearing the doctor describe the shape I am in now, makes me sad.
When I feel like a mess of a patient, I just want to read books all day and hide from my life.  Thinking I'm sick and fragile and in pain, actually makes me sicker and more painful.
I do let myself wallow for a time, but I don't feel better disengaged in my life.

Today, I want to post a few pictures I took this summer.
I was pretty sick but really wanted to watch my kids at their riding camp.
I love horses.
I love kids with horses.
Someday I am going to be strong and we are going to have horses.
For now, enjoy these pictures with me.

Life is good.