The Stoma Story - Part 1

I should start this journey of ours by explaining how I came to have a stoma.
**WARNING** This story is a prime example of TMI. If you faint easily, do not read. Or, if you get really grossed out by reading about poop. Come to think of it, I will probably write about poop a lot. You, poop haters, will not feel welcome here. (Though you totally are, because everyone is!)

Anywho...

It all started with the birth of my son, Mancub. They cut that little (huge) sucker right out of me and sent me home with my new offspring and some awesome pain meds. Yay! As you probably can imagine, recovering from a c-section is just about as much fun as...well, recovering from major abdominal surgery. On top of the other really disgusting vomit-inducing wonderful side effects of childbirth, I began to experience poop issues. I'm talkin' run-to-the-bathroom-because-I-might-not-make-it kind of issues. Then came the blood. Doctors say "Well, Mama, you just had a ten and a half pound baby, you have hemorrhoids!" Then came the mucous. See, this is where I'll lose the weak stomachs. Yes, mucous. In my poop. Doctors still told me not to worry about it. Then came the pain. I can't even describe the stomach pain. Every time I had a bowel movement there would be pain. Finally, I was referred to a Gastrointestinal doctor, or GI.