Welcoming Arthur into the world was an remarkable experience in itself. What was even crazier was the month following his birth:
|Despite the yawn, we were not bored.|
While in the hospital with Arthur, I debated using the luxury of my additional hospital night stay covered by insurance versus rushing home to our busy, bustling home. I opted for the hospi-cation, and around 10 PM started worrying about that choice- we were under a severe storm warning and tornado watch.
Normally I blow these type of warnings off, but this one was no joke. I noticed the hospital announce a few warnings in the hallways, and suddenly started receiving updates from Alan at home. He had to wake up the boys to bring downstairs and was sending pictures of GIANT chunks of our GIANT maple tree in the highway and in our yard. I was getting damage updates and play-by-plays all while our 6 PM bedtimer’s got cozy in the playroom. However, the storm passed and I went to bed. We were fine.
Sometime later on or in the early morning, Alan discovered that in between power outages our sump pump failed. As a result, the basement flooded. And I mean FLOODED. 10-12 inches of standing water in the area we primarily use to store all of our beloved junk. Tubs were tipped over, Christmas decorations drenched, and appliances were submerged. What I didn’t realize was the after-effect of this all.
We had a flood cleanup company come out to fix the standing water while Alan picked Arthur and I up from the hospital… we thought. The company ended up being a weird situation of misinformed workers, no proper tools, and zero helpful hands. Their service truck was broken and they suggested using the back-up pump that Alan purchased (from Home Depot on the way home from the hospital with me and newborn Arthur) to which Alan suggested they scram and he’s capable of throwing a sump pump in to water and draining it into the yard– expect he kept his tact and composure much better than my wording. So, the professionals were gone and when Alan wanted to be welcoming Arthur home, he was draining our basement and then sorting every ruined item while trying to salvage what he could. He ended up having to evaluate way more damage than anticipated.
Turns out, when you let your HVAC and water heater sit in water, they don’t want to work again. So when it was time for Arthur to have his very first visit home in the mid-July summer heat, we had no working air conditioner. We also had no running water. (I fully realize how spoiled I am by these comforts, but coming home from the hospital two days postpartum while juggling the issues of that first week of nursing, no sleep, and just wanting to take a shower and lay in your own bed- made for one crabby mom.) The water was fixed within a short, tortuous day, but we didn’t get hot water throughout the weekend until we could find a repairman to fix ours.