"But it was her business to be satisfied- and certainly her temper to be happy; and all was soon right again." Jane Austen
I re-read Pride and Prejudice in its entirety yesterday (it is incredible how much reading you can get done when you wake up in the middle of the night and then spend the rest of the day in a quasi-sedated bed stupor) and this quote made me smile. It works for me.
The only way I can justify continuing to try to have another child is if we enjoy ourselves while we are doing so. Otherwise that is sort insane, right? I mean, it would be unhealthy to allow our disappointments and frustrations with never-ending genetic issues to sabotage what is, in every other respect, a great life.
Are you with me? Are you hip to my happy?
The D&C was fine. They accidentally over-sedated me so I was in the hospital a little longer than anticipated. People kept coming over and slapping me on the face while I burrowed further and further under that dreamy hot-air blanket thing.
"Wake up!" they'd say. Slap slap slap.
"Uhnnnnn," I'd reply.
According to Steve, we spent a couple of hours doing this.
Then there was my blood pressure. The big number at one point was 60. 60 over something littler. 30 maybe. I am not sure what that means but I do know that I had to have an escort in the bathroom and it involved more slapping.
Finally, it turns out that I was severely dehydrated. I don't want to be indelicate, but the nurse repeated a story involving catheters and volume measurements so tiny you usually only see them in reference to vietnamese cinnamon or red pepper flakes. Personally, I think a little dehydration is to be expected when you tell someone they cannot even swallow their own spit after midnight let alone a nice mug of tea but they were displeased with that too. They didn't slap me for it but they did make me stay in the recovery room until I absorbed three jumbo IV bags full of fluid.
So I was there a while. Getting slapped. And reading. At last Steve took me home and fed me soups and blue Gatorade and I was asleep for the night by 7:30.
Not a bad Monday, really. At least I got to skip communist playgroup.