How do you sleep? I always sleep on my side. Last night that was a problem. I'd spent all day laid flat on my back hardly daring to move in case it hurt. But I needed sleep so summoned up the courage to move myself over. I am so glad nobody was around to see me but wriggling around inch by inch I did it. Guess what, it wasn't so bad, moving. It was a bit like when you've done way too many ab crunches in gym class and the day after your muscles are killing you only more intense.
Nobody goes into hospital and comes out rested, they have to do these tests every few hours so you just seem to be getting into a decent sleep and they come and wake you to check your blood pressure and temperature. My mummy radar alerted me as soon the door was opened and a glimmer of light crept in, it's almost like nature has presented mums with an inbuilt motion sensor. This lead the nurse to question whether I'd been to sleep.
I woke at 5.30 having a coughing fit. I didn't realise how much you use your stomach muscles when coughing. OMG that was not a good idea...
The nurse woke me at 8 o'clock for the usual checks. Breakfast consisted of more jam and bread and really bad tea. I can't wait for a large cup of good strong English tea with milk, the Dutch have not quite grasped this tea making business (tiny cups, too weak and no milk.)
After breakfast it's time to move. The fear of moving is worse than the moving itself. After a momentary dizziness I make my way to the shower. To my immense relief the catheter is removed. The feeling of the warm water is fantastic, almost healing. For the first time I get to examine my body, the pink disinfectant on my skin looks strange and my battle scars are small but clear to see. It brings back memories of the first shower after my babies were born but I push them to one side, too painful now...
The thought on repeat in my head is; Once I've been to the toilet I can go home. So I drink and wait.
Isn't it strangely wonderful that I know the sound of my boys footsteps? I hear them coming down the corridor. They've come to take me home! Big smiles, warm cuddles and happy hearts. The pain has gone. Nothing could feel more wonderful than being with my family now!