So I had emergency surgery Tuesday afternoon.
Really, I’m good.
I’m sore, I’m bruised, I have 3 open incisions and two drains.
But I’m good. I’m healing. I’m mending.
So I’m guessing you want the deets?
Okay well you know that Mastitis I was dealing with?
Well after 3 different oral antibiotics, 1 antibiotic shot, 1 visit to my OB, and 3 visits to urgent care, that bitch turned into MRSA.
Yes, as in super-bionic-bacteria that pretty much says “F you antibiotics you’ve got nothing on me!”
My third trip to urgent care, with increasing white blood cells and no improvement in my breast, I was referred to a breast surgeon.
3 needles later, she said I needed to go to the OR. Like now.
So two hours after meeting the breast surgeon (who is very nice and basically awesome and in full support of me breastfeeding), I found myself prepped for surgery.
The very things giving life to Baby C is what I was going to get cut open to clean out the infection.
I cried. I stressed. I prayed. And I cried some more.
Then I fed Baby C on my good breast.
And I cried some more.
All in all, it was a simple procedure and only took my doctor about 30 minutes. I had excellent nurses and I was home 2 hours later.
And the kicker? My doctor said if we would have waited another day or so to do the surgery, I would have lost breast tissue. The infection was that bad.
So I’m grateful. Grateful she adjusted her schedule and did the procedure.
Grateful that I’m healthy and healing.
Grateful that I’m still feeding Baby C even if 95% of it is on my right breast.
Grateful that it’s all behind me.
But y’all, I’m feeling something else to. Sad maybe? Angry maybe?
Honestly I’m not sure.
I just feel like this time, this time around with Baby C was suppose to be easy. It was suppose to be joyous. It was suppose to be a normal newborn experience.
And right now it’s anything but “normal”. Granted it’s still a million times better than the NICU. I’m holding my baby right now as I type this and my right breast is already picking up the slack and making more milk.
So at the end of the day, the outcome was good.
But I’m still struggling and I can’t put my finger on it.
I’m feeling a lot of feels, but also the joy has been extinguished.
Maybe that’s why I’m struggling.
I had so much joy. And now, well now I have 3-4 weeks of recovery ahead of me and taking every day one at a time.
I know the joy is close by, just beneath the surface, but until it comes back, there is love and gratitude.
Lots and lots of love and gratitude.
Ladies, if you get a hard, tender, red lump on your breast get it checked out right away! Mastitis turning into an abscess (or 3 in my case) is rare but it does happen!