Lemon Juice in the wound

If you have a weak stomach or you don't like those TMI conversations women seem to have this may be an entry you would rather skip. For me, it is such a part of the journey that I can't leave it out.

May 19th was my first period after giving birth to Jordan. It seemed a bit heavy but I thought that was probably normal after giving birth and thought nothing of it. Charles and I went to our bereaved parents group like we always did on Thursday nights, it was held at the hospital Jordan was born in.

When the group closed, I got up from my chair and felt a gush of blood pouring down my legs. I hurried to the bathroom, freshened up, changed all of my feminine hygiene products, stood up and once again I was standing in a pool of blood. I had never bled so much in my life. I told Charles that since we were at the hospital anyway, maybe we should go to the ER. We headed over there and I was still gushing out blood. Well, they were busy and made us wait for four hours before seeing a doctor. Charles called my friend Amber to come and sit with me so he could go home to check on the kids and get me clean clothes. While he was gone, I sat there wrapped in a hospital blanket in hospital pants bleeding and crying.

The receptionist called my name over the intercom. "Jenny Davidson, please come to window number two" I knew that if I stood up I would be covered in blood again, so I sent Amber to find out if I really needed to come up there. While she was gone, one of my domestic violence clients came up to me in the waiting room. She said, "I thought that was you they called." Amber returned and it was nothing, they just needed to confirm some information. The client went on to say that she had just found out she was pregnant. She said that she knew that her husband was not the father and because of that, he beat her up and kicked her out of the house. She started talking about wanting an abortion. I was sitting there in a pool of blood, listening to her talk about her violent marriage, pregnancy and her desire for an abortion. I wanted to die.

I handed her my business card and said that I was unable to help her at the moment but that she could call my office in the next week for an appointment. Then I started crying even more.

After 12 hours, four pelvic exams, an ultrasound, and what seems like a million arms in my privates I was sent home and told that the bleeding had slowed and they didn't know why it had been so bad in the first place.

I was in so much pain, emotionally and physically, I just wanted to sleep for a week.