18 years ago today my oldest son was born. There were complications. I was in the hospital 5 days (and it was not a c-section.)
Two days ago, on my 19th anniversary, my teenage son drive me to the gynecologist's office because I was experiencing a fever after Friday's surgery. The "kick-butt" antibiotics he gave me (3 different ones) really did kick my butt. More precisely, they've kicked me in the gut.
Today the doctor gave me an antinausea medication and told me to stop everything else but Tylenol and liquids until 6 PM when he will call me to see how things go. This is a doctor who gives out his personal cell phone number and calls on his day off. My goal is not to have a fever and not to throw up. He told me to stay in bed and stay hydrated. If this doesn't work out, it's back to the hospital.
I am super-grateful to my local neighbors and friends who have brought casseroles, comfort and Girl Scout Cookies. And to my mom, who returned home today, who didn't have to cook much because of that, so she scrubbed my floors on her hands and knees in between bringing me tea and Jello.
I'm grateful in advance for your prayers. I cannot make a nice birthday dinner for Big Brother today, never mind a cake. I don't want to land in the hospital tonight too.