That was hard. Very hard.
My sister left....my rightfully appointed Affairs Manager...and with it, she wrote this message:
"With a heavy heart, I had to leave my sister’s and return home. While I was so excited to see my babies and my husband, my heart hurts because my other half is in pain. I recognize that not everyone gets to share the same bond that my sister and I do. Not everyone gets to experience the deep connection and love that we have. I am very aware how truly lucky I am. We can say so much without saying a thing. We can laugh obnoxiously about absolutely nothing. We can ease the chaos of the world around us just by being together. LUMI. I’ll be back soon sissy. 💗@hwahila_mariotti #sissy #Noonefightsalone"
But don't worry, I have my mom. Who is more than thrilled to be moving in for at least the week - ask her and she'll tell you she would move in for the next 6 months if not more.
Don't worry, she raised 4 kids, 2 boys, 2 girls, yet I had to give her a verbal tutorial on how to put my hair in a high pony. To be fair my grandpa was a hairstylist so literally ALWAYS did her hair for her...but still...she raised two girls....
Don't worry, she won't let me out of her sight.
Don't worry, she will literally come in the bathroom with me...just in case.
Don't worry, she will breathe my same air just to make sure she can do everything in her power to take my emotional and physical pain away.
Don't worry, as much as I resisted the thought of someone being with me 24/7 post surgery, I realize I NEED her.
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On a lighter note (no pun intended) I pooped again and we all celebrated!
The bloating, swelling, and overall thoracic and abdominal distension is ICK.
Pooping is good. Let's keep this up....er, out!
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