Sometimes, you’ve got to heal the trauma of childbirth and my time has come.
Luckily for me, I mean trauma in the real medical sense of injury. Yes, that’s a good thing. It’s probably easier to repair the physical trauma than it is to recuperate from psychological trauma during childbirth. Boy, I was lucky that all the children’s birth were pretty straightforward, joyous.
Bloody painful, thought, some of them. Dexbox is always delighted to hear that his birth was the sorest.
Anyway, tomorrow I will go under the knife to finally repair some internal damage done. Thanks boys. But seriously, I’m grateful to have a good hospital, lovely surgeon and anaesthetist to hand. We’re so lucky here in Australia.
But no, I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, exactly. Long forgotten memories of the pain of tearing down below and having my perineum stitched have returned. Ouch, ouch, tears in the eye.
And yuck, ouch, help, the horror of not being able to sit down, the terror of going to the toilet. The first poo.
On the bright side, I really like being in hospital. Odd, I know. I think it’s the narcotics that appeal, to be honest.
Operations, I’ve had a few. Wish me luck on this one.
Do you love or loathe hospitals?
Have you been nipped or tucked down below? Any advice on recovery?
PS. I’ve never posted without a photo before, but kind of hard to illustrate this one, I felt….