It's the little things...

I woke up this morning feeling like 'how am I going to make
it through this?' I checked my calendar and saw I have
one hundred and twenty-nine days to go. Then I looked at
my blog and said, "I've only been at this bed rest for EIGHT days?!"
I am definitely going to lose. My. Mind.

Then I looked at the posts and realized that I posted TWO TIMES FOR DAY SIX! I double checked that I hadn't accidentally double posted the same post. But no! They were in fact two different posts. Cool, I just bought myself another day into the bed rest.

And that one bump, from eight to nine, made me feel better.

When what you're looking at is so daunting, it's amazing how the littlest of things can make such a huge difference.

Bed Rest. Day NINE.

Today is dr. appt. day. I live for these days. Especially after the fall yesterday, I just want to know that everything is ok. Bub is a tumblin' but I want medical confirmation. Being a creative person, my imagination can be very very real. And with all the down time my imagination has lots of opportunity to come out and play, oh and to really freak me out. It's the curse of creativity.

The other upside to dr. appt. day is that I actually get out of the house! woohoo! Amongst the living! I almost feel like a normal person on these days. I get up, take a shower, get dressed in real clothes, drive into the city (though R has decided this is now over, he will now be coming home to drive me in, sigh.) With the Spring weather in full force is been such a wonderful break.

So dr. appt. was great. Doctor pleased with everything again. phew. Cervix long, closed and tight as a fist. phew. Bub just fine in there. I'm so tempted every time to say, let's just find out what this lil' bugger is...but then I also want to be surprised. It's the gemini in me wanting it both ways.

So far so good.
Back to incubating.
More tomorrow.

Bed Rest. Day EIGHT.

I'm beat. Ready to hit the sack over here,
but I didn't want to lose my posting momentum.

Last night we had a small gathering for R's birthday dinner. R was surprised by the scotch on the rocks that was waiting for him in the mailbox. Wish I could could take credit for that idea but it was all M. Thankfully that little gesture made his bad day disappear before he walked in the apartment. He was happy to see everyone and the spread that L had arranged. Of course birthday hugs from the littlest guests, J, G and A put a big smile on his face. I was pushed around on the sofa lounging like a princess. All in all a very very good night.

So far no more contractions that are worth talking about. phew. Dr. appt. tomorrow. Fingers crossed that everything is still all good in the hood. I did completely bust my butt today with a nasty fall. I have no idea what happened other than the new bed we have is really high, we're talking princess and the pea high, not the low sleek platform bed I'm used to. When I got up to pee somehow my upper body thought my feet were on the floor and they weren't. I went flying across the room and landed on the corner of the coffee table. Before anyone gets the wrong idea of me flying through rooms of the house...I live in one BIG room, no walls, from the bed to the coffee table is just a stones throw. Anywho, my left arm caught the sharp corner of the table and I did a face plant on the floor. I was completely shocked. I laid there for a few minutes sort of in a mild state of panic wondering if my arm was broken and praying I didn't hurt the baby. And then the bub gave me a good kick as if to say "I'm cool Mom, you ok?" Both knees and my arm are black and blue and I survived another moment of mild drama.

Bed Rest. Day SEVEN.

Happy Birthday to my incredible and amazing husband.

R,
You are my rock.
There are not words to describe how much love I have for you.
One day our children will look up at you and your 6'4" self
and see you as Superman.
I know I already do.
I love you,
Heather


p.s. so far NO contractions today. And for R, I'm on glass #3 of gatorade and #3 of water.

Bed Rest. Day SIX.

One hundred and thirty-three days to go,
one hundred and thirty-three days...
Take one down pass it around,
one hundred and thirty-two days to go.
oh how I'd rather be passing beers!

Thankfully it's been calm and quiet around these parts today. I know I said I wasn't going to count exactly how many days I have left. But I did. So there. It's just that I found ignorance was not bliss in this case.

So hopefully yesterday was just a fluke and a reminder how important it is for me to stay in this bed. I had just been talking to my sister that this was so hard because I felt so great. But now I know why I'm here and I know where I'm trying to stay out of...PLEASE don't let me have to do a day of this bed rest in the hospital. Come on Universe, give a girl a break.

Thanks for all the love peeps. I feel it. I do.

Bed Rest. Day FIVE.

I'm posting this a day late. Yesterday was not a party and it was far from uneventful.

I woke early in the a.m. with a lower back ache. Exactly the same lower back ache I had the first night in the hospital last year. You know, the one that indicated my cervix was opening. Got up to pee. No blood, no strange discharge. phew. 'Deep breath, deep breath, deeeeeeeeeeeeep breath. This is probably nothing. You're just freaking out. It could be just your imagination. It's so freaking early. Go. Back. To. Sleep. Wait, go drink some gaotrade, take half a percoset (dr. approved) and then try to relax.' I did all these things and it seemed to work. I woke up several hours later and felt fine, great really. R woke up and got busy organizing and helping fix my bed rest set up. I got busy and finished some work that I didn't get to last week. All was just a-ok.

But. In the back of mind, under all the ok feelings, there was still the chatter, the doubting Heather, and she would NOT. SHUT. UP. Deep breath. deeeeeeep breath.

R left to go to a friend's bbq birthday...not wanting to really leave me, but I insisted. So he left and then the contractions started.
The chatter was now more of a scream in my head. The deep breaths were losing their power. I kept pounding the water, pounding the gatorade. Desperately trying not to have a full blown anxiety attack. I took a hot shower. Isn't that what people do when they are in the early stages of labor? OMG. Get out of the shower. Get back off my feet. Deep breath, deeeeeeeeeep breath. Ok. Debate, do I call R and freak him the fuck out in the middle of a party? I'm positive he will tell me to call the doctor immediately. So I opt to do that first. Then it occurrs to me that she will probably want me to come to the hospital NOW. I'm over that 20 week mark where they can give me drugs to stop the contractions (if they are REALLY happening) So rather than wait, I call R on his cell. The conversation went something like this:

H: Hi.
R: Hi, you ok?
H: Yeah, but listen. Don't. Freak. Out. and PLEASE dont' make a scene there in front of all our friends...don't make a big deal...
R: WHAT'S GOING ON?
H: I'm about to call the Dr. E. I think she will probably say to come in to the hospital and I want you here when she calls back. Please drive slowly, it's raining, be careful. This is probably nothing, I'm sure I'm just imagining. But I'm calling Dr. E now.
R: WHAT'S GOING ON? I'm coming home.
H: OK. Please be careful.

(I now realize how ridiculous my request was to "calmly say good-bye and leave the party to get home NOW without looking freaked out or freaking anyone else out" Calmly? Yeah, uh, right.)

I called the doctor's answering service. The conversations goes like this.

H: I'm a patient of Dr. E. Hoping she can call me back.
AS: (after getting my name and number) Is this your first pregnancy? What's the problem?
H: uh, erm, no. I'm having contractions.
AS: How many weeks?
H: Almost 21.
AS: AND YOU'RE IN LABOR?!
H: I hope not.
AS: Paging the doctor now.

R comes home. He is numb and has a look of fear in his eyes. I'm sure me lying in bed crying didn't help calm him. I tried to dry up my tears and make small talk...and he tried to figure out if I was really having contractions.

So Dr. W calls back. Of course the one doctor in the practice I have not met yet. sigh. I have to retell the whole story of losing T&O. The cerclage with this pregnancy blah blah blah. She says to write down or keep track of when I'm having contractions. If it's more than four an hour. Call her back. She'll want me to come in.

The first nine mintues after hanging up. I have three contractions. Lower back starts hurting again. This is not happening. Deep breath. Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep breath. 22 minutes of nothing. And then they start up again. Five more in the next 25 minutes. OMG. This is NOT happening.

Call the doctor back. She returns the call within 10 mintues. "Meet me at the hospital. In Labor and delivery." ugh. Labor and delivery. ugh.

R and I both are having the worst case of deja vu. Waiting in triage for a nurse. I realize it's the same nurse from last year. This is not happening. Thankfully, before the nurse takes me back, my doctor arrives. THIS was not what happened last year. Ok Things are a little different. She was so amazing and did her best to calm us both. Thank god we changed to this practice. She even told me that the anxiety I was feeling was completely normal and not to worry that I called her in on a rainy Saturday night. That was her job and of course I did the right thing.

The hooked me up to a monitor and they got the sono machine out and ready to check both the baby and my cervix. I knew the bub was fine, he had been tumbling this whole time. Of course the contractions had almost completely stopped. I was starting to feel like Chicken Little. But was hoping that was the worst that would come out this.

Dr. W checked my cervix. No blood, long and closed, stitch looks good. Visually it was perfect. phew.
Bub checked out just fine. Heartbeat looks fine, he's movin' and shakin' in there. phew. phew.
Out comes my bestest friend the dildo cam. Cervix still measuring the same as last Thursday. NO funnelling. phew. phew. phew.

The monitor is picking up what the doctor called "uterine irratibility" She said this could just be my baseline and be completely normal for me. She wasn't sure what the back pain meant, it could be a number of things. But some people do experience back labor. I never had a contraction in the hospital like I was having at home. She said some people have a "witching hour" where they seem to contract more than any other time of day. Maybe this was mine. The good news is that they don't seem to be changing my cervix at all. phew. pheeeeeeeeew.

She said we were good for now. My next goal should be getting to 28 weeks. Then 32, then 34. She is sure that "You won't feel comfortable until you have a baby in your hands" Wow. She gets it! phew. But she felt that everything seems to be so far so good. Wants me to call Dr. E on Monday and assumes I will be checked weekly again. Which is just fine with me. I wasn't sure I could go two weeks anyway.

So back home. Back in bed. Gatorade & H2O being pumped full force. R and H feeling a little better. Back to deep breaths. So thankful we are with this new practice. That they never make me feel like I'm some neurotic pregnant woman. That they are taking this pregnancy very seriosuly and not leaving any room for chance.

Day by day. Day by day.

Bed Rest. Day FOUR.

Today I felt pretty ok with this bed rest thang. The lovely L came over with her son JJ. L cooked me lunch while JJ and I read 101 Dalmations and discussed Clifford the Big Red Dog. JJ has lots of imaginary friends these days. L says they all conveniently come around when JJ doesn't want to do something. "Clifford doesn't want to brush his teeth right now, so I'll wait too." I think it's so incredible how a 3yr old's mind works. This little boy has been such a joy to watch grow up. He is the sweetest little montser ever. He melts my heart every time he give me a grin or a cuddle.

Ok, four days down...I haven't exactly figured out how many days this will last. I suppose I could get out a calendar and count days. Maybe at some point I will. But right now I think I'll just be a little ignorant and hopefully will be surprised when I realize that I only have 55 days left.

Bed Rest. Day THREE.

Day three sucked waaaaaaaay less than one and two. Probably had to do with the fact that I actually had to get out of bed today for a Dr. appt. I got to feel the sunshine on my face instead of just seeing it through the window. That felt like a luxury. Dr. is VERY pleased with this cervix of mine. Apparently it's not showing off it's incompetence. I guess that stitch has taught it a little something about responsibility. Thankfully, so far, it's holding up it's end of the bargain. Phew.

Bed Rest. Day TWO.

Better...but far from a party over here.

Doctor appointment tomorrow. Hoping and praying this little bub is still safe and sound and the cerclage is still holding my cervix firm and closed. The lil' dude has been kicking up a storm today. I'd swear he's doing back flips in there. And no, I don't know if it's a HE or SHE. But rather than call this little miracle IT, he, lil' dude or bub will have to do.

Bed Rest. Day ONE.

"I didn't think it was humanly possible, but this both sucks AND blows."
-Bart Simpson

April 12

Tess and Oliver,
Today we are holding you in a peaceful place in our hearts.
We love you and will miss you always.
Mom and Dad