–this post includes TMI about my hooha. don’t say I didn’t warn you.–

I have to be honest with you, friends – I’m not doing awesome. My body has had trouble healing from birthing my baby boy, with his 14inch head. I haven’t really gone into detail about this – just admitted the struggle, hoping it would just flitter away with the clicking of the keys. But it didn’t.

When I had Samuel, I tore pretty badly, both externally and internally. I went to see a PA at my doctors office weeks postpartum because I – my hooha – was still in such pain. She validated my pain, but couldn’t actually see anything wrong. At my 6 week appointment with my actual doctor, she did some more examining and still couldn’t see anything amiss. She said to come back if I was still in pain in a month.

Being the obedient girl I am {ha!}, I gave it 6 more weeks. When poo-ing still made my eyes smart with tears and I wanted to curl up in a little ball if I walked for more than 30 minutes, I went back to my doctor. She found that in healing the tears, the tissue kind of went crazy and kept growing over the healed wound. It’s called granulation tissue, and it’s very painful and sensitive. The tissue must be stopped from continuing to grow, so they treat it by cauterizing it with silver nitrate.

I’ve now had three of these cauterizing treatments – which are as painful as they sound – and it’s still growing. I’m now 19 weeks postpartum (that’s almost 5 months, friends.) Today at my appointment, my doctor found that additional scar tissue has begun to grow underneath the granulation tissue, causing even more discomfort and pain. Since the treatments haven’t solved the problem, it’s time for the big guns.

On Friday morning, I’ll have surgery to cut out the granulation and scar tissue. We have to be at the hospital before 6am, and I have to pump and dump for 24 hours. Recovery will take a while, and for at least a couple days I’m sure I’ll be flat on my back in bed.

I’m angry because this is so rare. It *almost* never happens. I’ve had a few extremely rare things happen to me during this postpartum period, and I’ve gotta say that I’m not a fan. Things that rarely happen to folks are hard to talk about, because almost no one else has experienced them. The rare things that have happened on this journey have been painful and shocking, and I’m done being the rare case.

I’m sad because it’s eaten up my first months with my baby boy. This breaks my heart. I don’t feel like myself because my body is working so hard to make milk and continue to heal itself and function without much sleep. That’s a LOT to ask of a body and I’m exhausted. I’m sad because I don’t have a huge stash of frozen breastmilk (I’m home with Sam, so I nurse him nearly exclusively) and will use almost the whole stash during that 24 hours period when I have to pour that liquid gold down the drain. UGH. Makes me pukey. I’m sad that I’ve missed certain things – ahem – with my husband for almost 5 months.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m treading water, just trying to keep my head above it. Treading means moving in the same place, and that’s exactly what I feel – I can’t move ahead. I am so jealous of other moms working out and talking walks with their babies and wearing jeans and sleeping and being with their husbands – ahem -and not needing their body pillows anymore and living. They’re shocked to hear I’m still dealing with hooha issues.

I’m defeated. With new stitches and cuts, I feel I’m moving backwards in the whole healing process. I’ve been in pain for so long now that it feels like it’s never going to get better.

My hooha has had it.

But as in all nasty situations, there is hope. I have the tiniest bit of hope hat soon I will feel better, that my body will heal and my heart with it, that I’ll be able to grocery shop without collapsing in pain afterwards, that I can stop icing and taking ibuprofen and wearing liners and nearly crying when I poo. Having my son is worth going through anything. My son. I’m a mama.

I will be ok.

But please pray for me? I would really appreciate it.

ps – I have an excellent doctor who is doing all the right things. This isn’t her fault. She’s wonderful and kind and skilled. Just so you know =)

{girl with blog}

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