Happy Thanksgiving!

It's been a busy past couple of days, which is why you haven't heard from me since Monday - and ultimately, all is excellent!

Dylan's feeding test was Tuesday morning at 9 am. Brad and I watched the live X-ray of his successful feeding, which featured nothing more than sucking and swallowing, the two actions we were looking for. These are things we take for granted, but for Dylan, they represent huge milestones. Regardless of his surgery, his gestational age (36 weeks tomorrow) still presents challenges in these areas. We also learned that boys tend to be slower feeders than girls, and Caucasians tend to be slower than other ethnicities (not sure how that plays out here). In any case, we are thrilled with his progress.

The goal for Dylan since then has been to consume 10-15 cc's in 20 minutes about every 3 hours (perhaps contributing to his new 5 lb. 10 oz. weight!). He's been gradually meeting this goal - seemingly preferring night feedings to day feedings, though I suppose 2 days of data is insufficient to draw any real conclusions. Perhaps his most impressive take was earlier this evening, when he had 12 cc's in 4 minutes! Exciting as this is, we are not pressuring him. Right now, he's still feeding from a bottle whose nipple most simulates the real thing (this is more challenging for him, which is by design). And we will work with him on breastfeeding simultaneously - the goal here being to acquaint him with the breast more than anything else. Please note, this is probably the only time in my son's life when I am okay with him becoming acquainted with anyone's breast.

Of course, this story simply would not be consistent without some wild drama. So don't worry, things haven't been perfectly comfortable all week. Shortly after delivering, I began experiencing night sweats. It's disgusting. I don't wake up hot, which is what I would have expected. Rather, I wake up a bit chilly because my PJs...even the sheets...are more than damp and less than drenched. Combine with this the fact that the A/C is usually on (because after all, it's the end of November in Florida), and the situation can become quite unhappy.

Yesterday morning, I woke up at 5 am, feeling particularly cold. I didn't think anything of it, and just tried to go back to sleep until 7, when I wake up to pump. Then when I got up at 7, I was nearly freezing, but again, figured the whole night sweat thing combined with the A/C and the mere sound of pouring rain (which I mistakenly equate with cold) was screwing with me. So I pumped.

After I got back in bed, things quickly plummeted downhill. We were supposed to meet Brad's Uncle Jack for lunch, but I couldn't even get out of bed. I was shivering and whimpering like a homeless kitten. Brad encouraged me to get up and take a hot shower, which seemed like a good idea - only it took me 1/2 hour to get there, and then did absolutely nothing to warm me up. After wrapping me in several layers of clothing, Brad put me back in bed and doubled up the covers on top of me. He called Dylan's nurse at my urging, in hopes of some advice - not surprisingly, none was given except, "You should call her doctor or send her to the emergency room." Strike One. He then called "my doctor's office (read: Mount Sinai)," who offered, "You should bring her in or take her to emergency." Strike Two. Then he called my mom. "She needs to go to emergency or back to Mount Sinai - I think Mount Sinai makes most sense." Strike Three. I was going back to Mount Sinai - again.

In the meantime, I'd taken 2 Aleve, and frankly, I don't remember a whole lot transpiring over the next hour or so. All I know is that when I did wake up, I'd stopped shivering - and eventually, I was able to shed most of the layers.

Around 1:00, my mom and I headed back to Miami Beach while Brad went to spend time with Dylan. Thankfully, I did not have to wait long before seeing the doctor, who confirmed something I wish I'd known, oh, I don't know...last week? Yeah, so as it turns out, a dull and persistent stomach ache is in fact not par for the course with a C-section. That's called a uterine infection, or endometritis, for which I met 5 of 7 noted risk factors - who knew? Not the Mount Sinai doctors, apparently. Awesome. So all this time, when I struggled so severely getting into or out of bed, it wasn't because I was "slow to recover." It's because I was "infected."

2 days into the 5-day course of antibiotics, I already feel amazing. And not that fake amazing I experienced that would last for a day here and a day there. I enjoyed Thanksgiving today with Brad's cousins nearby, which was fantastic. What a treat to enjoy the holidays with family, despite being so far from home. Frankly, I even look a lot better - but that may be the new boobs I'm sporting. Come on, I deserve that small victory.

Upon doing the laundry tonight, Brad discovered 2 pairs of disposable hospital underwear! They are now washed and ready to be worn, believe it or not. I have no idea how they made it into my bag back home from the hospital, but you know what? I'm going to go ahead and wear those puppies, at least overnight! As it turns out, they're really freakin' comfortable. And I deserve that.