When the last free weekend I had before my second hip surgery came I was pretty determined to do something with it. I would say 4 weeks post op after I had the worse hip done, my left, was more less grueling than 3 months after having the second one- the right done. Even though the right technically recovered much faster (and both continue to recover), I no longer had my "good" leg to back me up. It made me nervous to do simple things like go shopping or for a walk because if my hips were to get pushed too far I had nothing to overcompensate with until I got home, unlike when only the left was done. Plus, the emotional toll of recovery would be weighing heavier on me just from how long I had been recovering for, and I had a strong idea that it would be like that going into my second surgery. Needless to say, Charly and our friends Molly and Dallin, who had their baby Ari the same day as Eliza, were up for seizing the weekend with us- no matter how unplanned and short notice it was.
Which turned out to be a good thing, since the person pushing the trip (me) didn't do any weather checks and it dumped rain all night. When we got there we were late to the game and all the spots on the river were taken, and after we checked out the falls and pitched our tents it started to drizzle off and on until it began to get heavier and heavier until it was just pouring at about the time we finished our tinfoil dinners. Charly and I bought a tent the size of a small apartment so we survived the night, barely. Eliza laid on my chest the first half of the night, had a meltdown halfway through the night, then Charly took her the second half. Molly and Dallin decided to sleep in their car instead of their little tent and decided to head home a little ways into the night. I don't blame them, we barely made it with Em and being able to stand up with her in that huge tent was the life saver of it all.
When morning came, though, it felt completely worth it. It always does- something I kept telling myself at 1am and 3am and 5am as the sheeting rain against the tent disturbed Eliza's sleep. We ate some glazed donuts, took down camp, and headed to the very short trail along the river to the falls.
Funny story: You can't see it, but Eliza's sleeper had a huge poop stain on the front of it, which confused the living daylights out of me. I had bought that outfit awhile ago and waited patiently for her to grow into it, so I was positive she had only worn it once and hadn't had a blow out as I wouldn't have noticed... but what the heck then? It took me a little while, but I finally put the pieces together. The only other time she had worn it had been about a week ago. During the night she had woken up and was being a booger to Charly as he tried to put her back down. It's hard to see Eliza at night as we try to keep things dark when we tend to her, and when you mix that with the sleep deprivation it can be hard to think straight- I once put a fresh diaper on her that wasn't even fitted well enough to do a thing. That night I remember Charly finally coming into the bedroom, exhausted, saying he had to change her outfit because she had "drooled" so much that it had soaked through all her layers. I was confused that Eliza would suddenly drool that much, but also didn't put it past her. It wasn't until the campout that I put together all the pieces and...
...needless to say, all that wet stuff he had felt wasn't drool. After Charly changed her that night, the sleeper got washed and folded without a second glance until the trip haha. When we got home I laid it in the sun which took the "drool" stain right out.
