The Day After

The night wasn't so bad - there is a light on at all times - if one baby isn't feeding the other is... but generally quite good sleepwise.

The mornings at the clinique are just non-stop. The rooms become just like Clapham Junction station with the number of people in and out.

Breakfast arrives around 8am - swiftly followed by a visit from the gyne who looks at my scar - and kneads my tummy (not comfortable at all.) - I'm starting to get awful pains in my uterus when I feed the baby - these are called tranche in French - it's generally the uterus going back to shape - but they are truly painful and I'm given pain killers, but still am wincing each time we feed just for the first 15 seconds or so. (Funny, I don't remember these pains the last time).

Then the physiotherapist arrives (kine in French) she was the same one as last time, and I truly dreaded her this time - she was horrid before - rather like a sargent major barking orders and making nasty comments about my lack of French (well, lady, you wouldn't speak much French after 31 hours in labour and a c- section either (last time that is.)). She does not catch a breath between instructions and if your French isn't up to scratch, you've had it mate. Thank goodness she seemed nicer this time and not all the staff are like her... so after exercises on my ankles and legs and being taught how to get out of bed... the ladies arrive to help wash me.

They wash your nether regions the first day for you ... then get you out of bed and put you in a chair to wash the rest of you - then bring you your wash bag to do your teeth and hair and you start to feel human - along with a change of nightie.

Eloise wasn't bathed yesterday - this was a change of plan since Alicia was born 4 years ago (she had a bath immediately she was born) Today the nurse comes and takes Eloise's temperature, takes a look at her chart and weighs her and washes her hair - they don't don't like to bath them now as they like to conserve the covering on the skin and also not to lower their body temperature when they are so little.

Still on the regime leger (they promise proper food for 4 o'clock gouter) for lunch... and then daddy comes to see us and Benoit my boss (who poor chap didn't get good conversation as we were all so zonked!) drops by. Then French granny and Alicia come to say hello for an hour.

The lady in the next bed to me had asked for a single room on entry but they were all full - she asks again today... but still nothing. EVERYBODY who visits her asks about this single room situation (yes I can hear every word - no choice really) and says how disgusting and disagreeable it is having to share a room... (what am I? chopped meat, I'm thinking to myself...) It does make me feel rather uncomfortable.

And my catheter is driving me crackers... and eventually it's taken out and walks to the toilet are rather painful and annoying having to take the drip on it's wobbly wheely holder. They do accompany you the first time and you are on your own after that. There is an emergency button in the bathroom if you need someone...