well… six weeks have since passed since the big H.
Cannot say its been easy, but compared to some I’ve spoken with or read about, I’ve been pretty lucky with my recovery.
Things that are still making themselves prevalent is the persistently, and extremely uncomfortable swelly belly. To be blunt, I start out the day looking fairly normal (my normal, which is chubby), and by mid afternoon I appear to be about six months pregnant which we all know is impossible.
Pants have become my nemesis. I have decided that seeing as I look pregnant, that gives me the right to shop in the maternity section and I am going to buy a pair of pull on pants with a comfy elastic panel in the front. I don’t care. I am sick and tired of standing staring at my jeans and pants unzipped and unbuttoned with my belly forcing its way out of them. It’s terrible. My husband just said cant you just buy bigger pants. Well no. I can’t because while they might fit my stomach I will look like the arse has dropped out of them and my legs shall be swimming in giant voluminous tunnels. so that’s it. I’m going to buy them. I do not care that I don’t technically qualify.
I also will be quite happy when I no longer feel as though I’m sitting on a damned sponge. Don’t even ask me to explain it. Just know that I spend my day changing from one cheek to the other to avoid sitting straight. It’s not fun. And my back hurts because of it. I become somewhat crabby mid afternoon. Hence my not looking forward to returning to my job, which involves sitting at a desk in the worlds most uncomfortable chair for ten hours a day answering phones politely and smiling. Two things that by 1:00pm will be completely impossible.
I am joyful about not being at work, and I can honestly say I am not looking forward to returning. I could retire right this minute and be one happy camper. Unfortunately, I have a credit card that insists on reminding me that I owe money, and a holiday to save for, so for now I shall return, not for the love of the job, but for the convenience of the dollars it shall afford me.
And so the journey continues. I see my surgeon this week. I’m going to push for another couple of weeks off work. Frankly emotionally, mentally and physically it will be a miracle if I’m ready even then. I do see a light at the end of the tunnel. But really, it still seems so far away and I’m happy to take my time getting there.
Whilst the benefits to my life will be abundant, getting there has proven to be a lot more difficult than I anticipated. I keep a smile on my face, and tell everyone I’m great. Sometimes.. not so much. But hell, that’s just life, isn’t it? And so, I shall leave it at that.. take my swelly belly and my pillow and retire to the couch where I don’t have to sit on one cheek and forget that the real world is waiting for me to return for a bit longer. It’ll survive without me. I sure as shit am surviving without it!