Kyle and I went Friday to get my stitches out. Fi-na-lly. I wasn't quite sure what it meant, but I did know that it meant I wouldn't accidentally scrape them on the couch or touch them anymore. They ended up being long stitches because they had to go in, out, in since my skin was so weak from the first surgery. I didnt learn much, other than I still can't drive and I still can't really do much with Ella... 10 lb weight limit and all:( I thought all along that the weight limit was because the stitches you could see would pop. Nah. It's because they don't want to hurt the stitches that are holding the patch they sewed into my brain together. Well that's a horse of a different color. Why didn't you say that in the first place? For real. I would have taken them a little more seriously if I had known that. Anyways, here's a picture of my head with no stitches. Still have dirty hair, shaved hair and scrunchy pigtails, but it's an improvement. I go back to my neurosurgeon on Aug. 17 to talk about next steps and the chance for future infections.
Now, on to the bigger topic of this post. Kyle and our moms have been having to clean my stitches everyday for me. Bless their hearts. I've never had stitches before, and let me tell you what, they got gross. Scabby. My skin was growing over them. Luckily I couldn't get a good look at them, but I was smart enough to know it wasn't pretty.
And let me tell you something else, if it wasn't for Kyle, my mom and his mom, I don't know where I would be. They are the reason I got through this. The sisters pitched in, and the dads have been amazing too - taking care of the baby, stocking the fridge and just being supportive. I'm even expecting some yummies from our family's neighbor extraordinaire and extended family member Yvonne. But there are some things a girl would rather do with her mom. Between the stitches and the help I've needed with taking baths, brushing my teeth, managing my hair, discussions about diet and digestion, and basically all the tears I've cried from pure frustration, I am closer with my husband, my mom, my mother-in-law and my sisters than probably most people. Think about it...when was the last time your mom saw you completely naked? And I'm not talking undies. I mean completely naked. Me? Last week. I'm 28 years old, a wife and a mother, and my mother had to hold me up and bathe me for several days. That's love, people. And now that I'm a mommy, I totally get it. I would leap in front of a train for Ella. Giving her a bath is nothing.
This entire process (and I had to go through it twice) has been a lesson for me in faith and humility. Sometimes you just have to believe that things will get better, and sometimes you have to accept help, whether you want it or not. That's been hard for me, but I didn't have a choice. And they genuinely wanted to take care of me. I will never been able to repay them for what they have done for me, but as a mommy, I know there is no where else they would've rather been.
My parting words to you (for today): hug your moms, dads, babies, spouses, siblings and everyone who takes care of you. It's easy to do and something we take for granted. We can't always be all that we want to be when we want to be it, but if we are fortunate, there will be people there to help us get there. I'm almost there.
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