on the mend...

Before I say anything, I feel the need to thank all of you, (my dear friends and family), for your beautiful thoughts and your encouraging words , which have indeed given me hope and courage during this time of sorrow. I love you all dearly.

My surgery on Tuesday went really well. The doctor was able to do it all with a laparoscope, and only had to make two incisions, (rather than three, as he had discussed with us earlier). He said that the pregnancy was deeply embedded in my left fallopian tube, making it necessary to not only remove the baby, but also the lower half of my tube. He had told us beforhand, that a woman only needs one good ovary, one good fallopian tube, and of course, a good uterus, to be able to get pregnant. He even said that my one good tube could actually pick up eggs from either ovary. (Read this , it explains it better.)
He then had to remove the cyst on my right ovary, as it was the size of a BASEBALL! They had to first drain it, and then they were able to remove it through the larger of the two incisions. The whole process took about an hour 1/2. I really hate the way I feel when I come out of surgery, and this was no exception. I felt completely nauseous, dizzy, confused, etc. I can remember waking up to Dr. Semrad talking to me, but the only word I remember him saying was "ovary". Let's just say I'm glad that he went and found John in the waiting room and repeated everything to him... as I've asked him at least 80 questions. I pretty much only remember two things from Tuesday, and unfortunately, they would be my throwing up in the car on the way home and my asking the nurse in recovery if I was going to die...how embarrassing! The weird thing about that is, I really thought I was going to die. John told me that I woke up several times on the way home in a complete panic. I told him that I was afraid to let myself go to sleep for fear that I might not ever wake up. Isn't that just pitiful?
The doctor had warned me that I would feel like I got kicked in the stomach, and as odd as that sounds, that is the best description of the pain I felt. They had sent me home with Vicadin, but it was not working...at all. John called the office at about 10 am on Wednesday to see if we could get something else, and that was like pulling teeth. They gave him the run around all day, until finally giving in to our request (at like 6 in the evening)! I'm so grateful to John...he has always been my biggest advocate. He has not left my side through this whole ordeal. It's so reassuring to know that I have such a wonderful spouse who is also such a wonderful caretaker. I'm also grateful for all the ward members and friends that have brought cards, flowers, meals (yesterday we got three)...we seriously had enough food to feed an army!
Lori took Ruby the morning of the surgery and had her until just an hour ago. It was really strange, (and too quiet) around here without her. I am grateful, however, that Lori had her, as it gave me a chance to rest and recover more quickly. Plus the doctor told me that I couldn't lift, or even hold her for at least 5 days. I couldn't wait to see her, and when John brought her home, I thought she looked so much more grown up. Her little arms were flailing all over the place, and she got the hugest smile when she saw me. That was the "lift" my poor spirit needed.

I'm planning on staying down at least through the weekend, and hopefully by Monday, I will be able to ease back into my normal routine...I think the first thing I'll do is go shopping...I'm itchin' for a new outfit!