Baby Blues

(Based on diary extract from 27/01/2011). 

I got discharged today, which I was so relieved about as I'm desperate to get back to my own bed and home comforts and I'd had quite enough of the girl next to me who liked to feed baby 'Mason' whilst listening to happy hardcore. That and the night of constant feeding I've just had and the very unhelpful midwife 'Jackie', who said she couldn't give me any advice and I would literally just have to stay awake all night to feed him. Cheers. She did however proceed to give me an industrial sized breast pump which helped me get my own back at Mason's mum.
I got back home this morning and started getting into 'family' life. I fed Albie in the peace of my room whilst catching up with Facebook and Twitter and thought 'I could get used to this'. At 3 o'clock the midwife came round, weighed Albie and said he'd lost too much of his birth weight (I should think so at nearly 9 pounds!!) and that we would have to go back into hospital until he put on sufficient weight. My milk had only just come in due to losing too much blood with the c-section which must've been true, if only for my Dad telling me he thought I looked dead after giving birth. The midwife continued to tell me about the 'policy' and I just burst into tears - I was mortified 'Please don't make me go back in' - but it's 'policy' and I'll do anything to make sure Albie is ok (and to avoid social services).
I re-packed my hospital bag and (sorry gory bit) as I was doing so Albie started to sick up his last feed which was nothing new except this time his sick was black (yes, black!) and I started to panic. All sorts of things were running through my head and I felt sick myself. He continued to do so all afternoon so in the end I concluded it was just as well I was going back in so I could check everything was alright.
At 6 o'clock we arrived back at hospital and guess who was on duty? Jackie. She told me I would have to stay for two nights and I burst into tears again. She turned to me and gave a half hearted stroke of my arm and with all the fake sympathy she could muster she said 'ah bless you, is it all a bit too much? If it's any consolation love, I hate coming here too'. No, actually it's not. Then she turned to Neil, my rock, who was holding my precious bundle and said 'speaking of which Neil, visiting hours are over, can you make your way out please'. Neil placed a very restless Albie in the crib as Jackie proceeded to inject me in the stomach with my daily dose of Heparin and I burst into tears as Neil kissed me on the head and walked out the door. Please get me out of here.