Two years ago exactly I was swollen and tired.
Each night I’d arrange pillows around my body, huge and expectant with my long wished for second child.
My body was ungainly. I was exhausted and grumpy. I was 20 kg heavier than now. And yet, I was so anxiously waiting for my new baby. I was so happy to be here, also knowing it would end.
Now as I arrange pillows around my aching body, it will never be the same.
Health is missing. Life is threatened. I am not bringing forth life, but clinging on.
I have returned for nine hellish days in hospital, the longest of my life. And a lot of pain, drugs and blood transfusions, so much imaging, oxygen, and blood tests, blood tests.
A blood born infection lodged in my sternoclavicular joint, bringing on muscular pain in my shoulder near my portacath. It worsened over 24 hours requiring hospital admission. It was not pleasant and my confidence is shaken.
Returning home I try not to think back to when I last carefully placed pillows around my body to ease my aches and pains.
It is so hard not to look back at when life was innocent and hopeful.