Difficulty

I started feeling "off" in December. For no reason my back would ache, but I attributed it to changing hormones and new baby stress. You were sleeping through the night, and your dad was back at work, but for the most part, you weren't an interruption to our lives. You fit right into the routines and we spent hours playing with you and bathing you and enjoying being your parents.

Nursing was going well you were definitely growing and such a strong little girl. In January, I started to feel really sick. I told your Daddy that I thought you might need help throughout the day because I was probably going to be in bed sick. He left for work telling me to call him if I needed him to come home and I took you to bed with me to try to get some rest.

At 11am I took a shower and fed you, changed your diaper and moved out to the couch. My back hurt so bad I decided to go to bed again. I called your dad because you didn't want to go to sleep so you kept kicking the covers off and fussing. He said he'd be home in half an hour. I propped a bunch of pillows around you and headed to the bathroom.

I was drawing up a bath when I heard your Dad come in. He checked on you and then joined me in the bathroom. One look at my face and he said I needed to get to the doctor, but I insisted I would be fine. I got in the bath and tried to relax.

That's when the nausea hit. It was so bad I couldn't get out of the tub, then I was crawling on the bathroom floor begging your Dad not to leave. He called 911 and they sent an ambulance for me right away. He put you in your classic pooh snowsuit and followed me to the hospital.

I had really bad gallstones and had to have surgery to get rid of them. I was so worried that I wouldn't be able to feed you, and the doctor delivered the news that I would be in the hospital for at least a week. I was in and out of sleeping and vomiting, so your dad decided it would be better to take you home for the night.