Weight: 214.1 lb
Well, I dropped over 5 lb, which is pretty cool! Diet went really, really well last week until Friday, when I abandoned all pretenses at the hospital and shared a Galaxy bar my fantastic friend J had imported from the UK. I think we all deserved it, given the situation. And I'm back on track now.
Owen's surgery went very well, although his left eye isn't nearly as open as his right and this is causing both me and his surgeon a bit of concern. If it's just some extra swelling squeezing it shut then given enough time, it will look the same as the right. However, if the stitches have come open or Owen has rubbed his eye somehow, then he'll have to go back to the hospital for an adjustment. Other than that though, things have been going well. We have to apply an ointment to the corneas and incisions four times a day to help things heal and stop his eyes drying out, which is utterly exhausting and Owen absolutely loathes it. In addition, as he also had tubes put in his ears to relieve the excess fluid build-up that was preventing his eardrums from vibrating properly, we have to put drops in his ear canals twice daily. He doesn't like that much either. AND we have to give him antibiotics by mouth (read: tube) four times a day AND cover his eyes in these strange metal shields at night to help keep things moist. He likes none of these activities and I'm so pleased the surgeon said we can start cutting back on everything from today.
You know, I'm really really tired. I feel as though I can never sleep enough, although I get around seven hours a night usually, and catch up on naps at the weekend. I think the burden of caring for Owen is just wearing me down, although I don't resent doing it. I just wish I were able to trust someone, anyone else to do it for a few days to give me a rest. I want a week off. It occurred to me today (sitting on the loo, of course), that I haven't had a real day off since before Owen was born. Such is the life of a mother who stays at home, I guess. Mike gets days off from work but even when that happens, I'm still working. It may be my fault, but I can't even relinquish control to him when he is home, because he often forgets the most basic of Owen's needs. Take Owen's nighttime routine, for example: every night we have the same routine of medications, changing into pyjamas and a bedtime feed. Every other night we bathe Owen as well. With all the extra gumph post-surgery, this routine is currently taking us a good 45 minutes, which we start at 9.00pm in order to start his bedtime feed at 10.00pm. SO... I always have one eye on the clock, making sure we get things started on time, and when 9pm rolls around I turn to Mike and tell him it's time. His usual response? "What needs doing?"
"What ALWAYS needs doing, Mike?"
Sigh. Then he'll act surprised at my tone and ask what he should start doing. Oh, I don't know! How about you just START doing SOMETHING? I feel I need to double-check everything he's up to, just to make sure he doesn't miss a dose of a medication, puts a new gauze around Owen's mic-key button, or even just gets the right volume of formula ready. If I don't, something always goes amiss and I'm really tired of being the safety net.
Don't get me wrong: Mike is a fantastic father and I do think that if I left him and Owen alone for a weekend that Owen would eventually get everything he needs, but to me that's not good enough. I need a partner who is on the same wavelength and is already thinking about what step comes next before I have to turn to him at 9pm and tell him so. I need a 24-hour father, just like I'm a 24-hour mother.