Breast Angst: The Saga Continues (Read With Caution)

The blog has been neglected this week for a couple of reasons. The main reason is that I have a very demanding newborn. I am re-learning how to do everything (including typing) with one hand since I always seem to have one arm tucked around a gorgeous little babe. The other reason I have been absent from the blog is that I have been continuing to fight this breast abscess.

I had some relief initially after the first aspiration, but a few days later, the pain began to steadily increase again. On Thursday I saw my GP who prescribed another round of antibiotics, but by the weekend the situation was worse than ever. On Sunday Morning George and the kids drove to Bristol to collect my mom from the airport, and while I should have been giddy with anticipation of seeing my mom after many months, I sat in the rocking chair and cried.

So shortly after she arrived, we left my mom home with Emma and Sophie and headed back to the hospital. Boy am I ever getting sick of that place! Since it was a Sunday, there was a skeleton crew on staff, and we basically waited several hours to finally be told: Yes, that looks wicked. Please come back tomorrow when we have the proper staff available to do something about it.

I went home in agony. I did make it through the night nursing Lili and doing my best not to think about what was brewing under the surface of my very red and angry looking left breast.

We went back yesterday and I once again showed Lefty to anyone in the hospital who wanted to take a gander. Their reactions were always a mix of horror and sympathy. At some point while we were waiting, it ruptured. George noticed when I was feeding Lili, and he didn't do a very good job of disguising what he had seen. (I don't know if I am unique is this regard, but it is best for me if I see and know as little as possible when physical injury is involved.) Based on his reaction, I went to the bathroom mirror to have a look. (Luckily the abscess is located on the lower left quadrant, so I can only see it with a mirror.) When I saw that the abscess had finally reached the surface and that a scary-looking blister had formed, I came back to the hospital room and did my best not to burst into tears. All I could say to George was, "Don't say anything!! I don't want to talk about it! [suppressed sobs] I just don't want my boob to explode!!"

My panic was quickly rising. George went to inform the staff that a mental health professional as well as a breast specialist might be required. Shortly one of the midwives came in to check on me. She was followed by the breast specialist, who was determined to sort me out once and for all. Dr. Eleri Davies (such a lovely Welsh name) was also extremely compassionate about my despair. So off we went for another ultrasound and aspiration. Someone pass me a paper bag! It was a dreadful walk. I knew it had to be done, but all I wanted to do was curl up in the corner and hide. When I got into the room and undressed, I could see evidence of the rupture on my breast pad, and I will leave the description at that.

Eleri sent me back to the very same torture chamber... er, ultrasound room, as last time, but this time I had a different doctor and nurse. I am happy to report that this experience was very different than the first. The doctor offered anesthesia, which I gratefully accepted, and the nurse was much gentler in every regard. It was all over in about ten minutes and is now bandaged up so that I cannot see the damage. When the anesthesia wore off about an hour later, it was extremely sore (and continues to be).

So here I am, ever hopeful, that things are finally going to get better. (It's been three weeks now!!) I will return to the hospital to see Eleri again tomorrow and have another aspiration if necessary, Heaven help me.

One of the worst bits, is that when a nursing mother feels poorly, so does her baby. Lili seems to need lots of extra comforting (and nursing) right now when I have the least energy to provide it. It's also difficult to find a comfortable position to hold her with my c-section incision and my broken boob, but we are making it through and holding out hope that this will soon be resolved. Stay tuned if you dare...