Suckage

I am stuck. Totally bedridden and useless. My husband (God love him) has had his way with the house for 4 days and even my own mother won't tell me how bad the downstairs looks. My imagination runs wild. It cannot be good.

Thanks for your well-wishes. I hope at some point I am less useless and more mobile. I hope that I will get better on these damn crutches and able to negotiate my way further than the bathroom.

Natalie is less than interested in nursing since having had a bottle of formula (they have me narcotics at the hospital and I had no stored milk, so the kid had to eat). She's never been a baby who nursed for comfort. She's always been in it to get the job done and move on. Now, she's figured out that there is a way to get it much faster and that formula is more satisfying. My supply is already suffering and I am historically a shitty pumper. We may be done nursing and while part of me is okay with that as long as she's happy and well, another part of me is so very sad. Feeding my babies has always been something that I have selfishly not shared. I hate that we might be finished.

My mood isn't all as bad as this post makes it out to be. My mom is keeping my spirits up; it's always so good to have her here. I wish the circumstances were more fun.

I go back in tomorrow because I think I have a oressure sore developing inside my cast. I hope that will make the need for another visit on Wednesday null. We'll see. I don't think I'll need surgery. I think things are as good in there as they are going to get. I want to get this show on the road and get the healing done so I can move past this. I keep saying that 12 weeks is only one trimester and that was once such a drop in the bucket...

Right?