Well to start with this morning I made it down the stairs. I managed to feed H, but then I was in agony and had to retreat back to bed and take painkillers. Its frustrating. I'm finding it so hard being upstairs and when I hear H laugh or cry not being there, or being able to go down to her. Because I know if I do I will make it worse and I need to get better for her.
I started taking the anti depressants last week but at the moment they aren't really doing anything. I have days where I feel numb, like I will wake up and this will all be a horrible dream. I just want to see the surgeons now and at least know what the plan of action is. I know this is going to be a long road to recovery, and I do know that I will get there I just find it hard some days to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
The one thing that keeps me going at the moment is H, seeing her little face light up and hearing her laugh. I have to say that baby laughter is like medicine, no matter how bad you feel it makes you smile.
I worry about the future to. If I am like this at 24 what am I going to be like in 10years time. I have a daughter who is my world and all I want to do is be able to play with her, feed her and care for her. At the moment I struggle to walk to the bathroom let alone pick H up.
I also feel bad for my husband. He is the one at the moment that is left to pick up the pieces, hes the one who on a bad day gets it in the neck. Whilst we said for better or worse and in sickness and in health, I don't think either of us signed up for this. I feel unbelievably lucky to have him. I couldn't ask for a more supportive husband. He tells me he loves my stretchmarks because they are my war wounds and when my skins bad he still sees me for me and tells me I am beautiful. How many women can honestly say they have that?!