I've been here a little more than a week now. I was moved to the high risk unit Sunday night, and haven't left my room--barely my bed, even--since then. It's a very strange feeling to have no idea what the temperature is outside, or even what the hallway looks like outside of my room. I've learned to tell some of what's going on by the noises that accompany...the dining cart rattling down the hallway at meal times, the laughter and hub-bub of shift changes, the sound of plastic wheels across carpet when it's time to bring the medicine-charting computer to my door, the swish of garbage bags when the housekeeper is making her rounds. And the periodic intercom calls about Code Blues, Code Yellows, and Code Reds, often accompanied by the whir of rescue helicopter blades. There's a lot that goes on in a hospital that makes you thankful you're not worse off.
The doctor told me to wear these leg squeezers all day and night, and that if I wanted a little break to just pedal my feet back and forth the whole time I had them off. That didn't sound like much of a break, so I just keep them on. The nurses keep commenting on how compliant I am about them. Ain't nobody got time for blood clots!
Bed rest in the era of the world wide web has got to be vastly better than in the dark ages. These are my lifelines. I'm probably going to hit some limit for maximum number of allowed Facebook comments or something. But until then, I surf...
The food is actually not too bad. And hey, I neither cook it nor clean up from it.
I'm working my way through all the menu options during lunch and dinner, but I've pretty much settled on a "regular" for breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, and sausage, hot chocolate and a Diet Coke. When I got to the hospital, I'd gained 18 pounds so far this pregnancy, which was waaaaaay less than ever before. Now, I haven't moved in 8 days and this is my breakfast. Not sure I'll be breaking any personal records any more. Oh well, more for baby!
And then I spend a little time mooning over pictures of my babies.
And downing a few pills. I get my anti-contraction medicine at 6 and 12, around the clock. It really messed with my sleep at first, but I'm learning to practically keep my eyes closed through my midnight vitals check and pill. Makes me think of how Buddy Boy sleeps through a lot of finger pricks and insulin shots. Actually, I think a lot about what he goes through daily. Bucks me up.
After the morning meds, we do a fetal non-stress test, to listen to the baby's heartbeat and check for contractions for about 20-30 minutes. We also do shorter tests throughout the day.
The readings are printed out.
But I can also watch them in real-time on the monitor. The blue line is baby. The green line is me. This day, I didn't have any contractions during the monitoring. Yay! I've been having a few contractions some days, but so far, they've been able to give me my next dose of medicine a little early and get things to quiet down.
I've enjoyed so many sweet visitors this week. It really helps the time pass pleasantly. And so do the magazines some of them have brought!
When I moved up here, I asked the Mister whether he thought it would be like the KD house. He didn't.
They do have a social hour on Thursdays, which the ladies get wheeled down to attend. But only if your doctor clears you. No clearance for me this week. Maybe next Thursday. A friend said the conversations are bound to be a bit like prison talk...What are you in for? How long you been in? How much time do you have left? Any priors?
Time for lunch. See? Not bad.
And then, the best part of the day! Mama and the children arrive for their daily visit.
I get to hear all about their morning, and then we usually do something quiet, with them snuggled in my bed next to me. I love it.
Baby Girl's favorite attraction by far is my water jug. There's just something about Mama's water.
Their visits often end with a good many tears on their part and mine, so their little creations are nice to look at when they're gone.