Bedrest isn't easy
I have heard more than once, it must be nice to have a break. Use this time to rest. Enjoy others doing all the work for now and rest. After a week and a half of bedrest, I am all rested out. my ankles are rarely swollen, my back always hurts, and I have officially binge watched way to much Gilmore Girls...WHICH I DON'T EVEN LIKE!
Don't get me wrong. When I get up and start doing things that I am allowed to do, I usually at some point realize my body hits a limit. The pain, contractions, and fear drive me down pretty quickly to hopefully alleviate my symptoms and keep baby boy baking. But as someone who usually pushes well past the limits, its been a hard time listening to my body and not my stubborn stubborn brain.
Family is the best
Since they are the only ones I see...ALL THE TIME! I love them. Very much. Between my husband and my parents, I have a ton of support with the girls and the house. My sisters have checked in frequently and my aunt and uncle stopped by for a small visit the other day which was lovely. My poor girls are adjusting to mommy being laid up since "baby brother Jude" is "sick." We didn't know how else to explain it to Lucy. Any good recommendations....
But....
I miss my friends. Not that I have many, but its been hard. My closest friends both now live out of state. Other friends have plans, but due to sickness, family situations and what not, well....lets just say its been an isolated couple of weeks. The lovely ladies of our church have started bringing meals in and I find myself making myself look as nice as I can in my jammies so that I can socialize for a few minutes. I also really enjoy my weekly outings to my doctor so the nurses can play darts with my backside. Because other than that, its kind of lonely. Social media, texting and what not has kept me somewhat sane and connected, but its still kind of lonely. I miss work, shopping, and fresh air......
At the end of the day though
I get it. Every day in is a blessing. Bed rest isn't guaranteed to keep him in for the long haul, but it can't hurt and I will do what I am supposed to. Its hard to have things to look forward to sometimes though. Most of my choices in being a pregnant woman are gone. I will have a c-section no matter what. Labor means a sterile surgical procedure and over that I have no control. I will have a spinal unless its a true emergent situation in which I will be intubated and knocked out. Shopping for the nursery is limited to what I can do online. My shower will be held somewhere I can sit with my feet propped up and within a 30 minute drive of the hospital. Maternity photos will be taken in my house and done in small sessions with Juan's phone. Everything seems so controlled, sterile and clean. Pregnancy of the modern woman I suppose. I miss the messy pregnancy I had with Lucy. The water breaking at Panera. The thrill of getting to tell people that really soon Lucy would be here. It was so unpredictable and fun and terrifying. Kind of like a roller coaster.
Of course the other side was the Prudence roller coaster which I guess was enough excitement for a lifetime. And early labor with Jude definitely livened things up a bit.
I just wish I had a choice in it.
Sometimes though, I guess you have to be still, be silent, and let God fight for you.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
The full story....
So....its been a while but some things never change....
The neverending saga of my children trying to kill me continues.....
Sunday night while at work I started to feel...funny. Some pain. Tightness. Tried to sit down, rest, and drink water. Nope didn't help. Now my 25 week pregnant belly was definitely tightening down and causing me discomfort. So being the middle of the night, my only option is to go to the hospital.
Once there I was hooked to a monitor. Things looked pretty mild for a bit but then all of the sudden started picking up. I got admitted and they were able to stop the contractions with one of the worlds most awful medication drips and in the mean time give me steroid shots to mature Jude's lungs just in case he decided that he wanted to be a January baby instead of the planned April baby.
They call it threatened preterm labor. I don't care for that term much because it makes me feel like a diagnosis they give to someone who over reacts. Given my history though, I am ok with overreacting. Actually I am seriously glad that whatever happened I got the steroids in and if anything crazy happens from here on out, Jude has a better fighting chance with those.
It is a crazy thing being pregnant again after my first premature birth. I feel like I am sleeping on a bed made of eggshells and that one wrong move could make the whole thing break. It has been a mix of emotions between sad, happy, upset, and fear. Most days I am happy, especially when I feel his sweet kicks and painful head butts. Its a sweet reminder to enjoy this while I have it because I missed out on so much having Prudence early. These past few days have been filled with soul searching because part of me honestly did not know if I could handle being a mom to a second 25 weeker....and only barely a year out of the NICU at that. Micropreemies are no joke and it takes the whole family into some dark places to make it out of that again.
So now I am at home which is good. I got to take a shower and put on my lovely smelling lotion and get into my much more comfortable posturepedic bed. This struggle is going to be a different kind. I feel utterly useless as a person/mother/wife right now and kind of feel like a glorified incubator, just waiting for the time when he acts up again and decides to come or they decide that its his time and take him. I look around and see chores that need to be done and can't. Its really frustrating. And I am only on day one of my confinement.
On the plus side, my family has been wonderful about everything. Juan, my parents, the outpouring of support, has been so sweet and appreciated. Every week will be a celebration of growth and development until Jude gets here and I will just have to learn to accept my limitations (something I have never been good at).
The neverending saga of my children trying to kill me continues.....
Sunday night while at work I started to feel...funny. Some pain. Tightness. Tried to sit down, rest, and drink water. Nope didn't help. Now my 25 week pregnant belly was definitely tightening down and causing me discomfort. So being the middle of the night, my only option is to go to the hospital.
Once there I was hooked to a monitor. Things looked pretty mild for a bit but then all of the sudden started picking up. I got admitted and they were able to stop the contractions with one of the worlds most awful medication drips and in the mean time give me steroid shots to mature Jude's lungs just in case he decided that he wanted to be a January baby instead of the planned April baby.
They call it threatened preterm labor. I don't care for that term much because it makes me feel like a diagnosis they give to someone who over reacts. Given my history though, I am ok with overreacting. Actually I am seriously glad that whatever happened I got the steroids in and if anything crazy happens from here on out, Jude has a better fighting chance with those.
It is a crazy thing being pregnant again after my first premature birth. I feel like I am sleeping on a bed made of eggshells and that one wrong move could make the whole thing break. It has been a mix of emotions between sad, happy, upset, and fear. Most days I am happy, especially when I feel his sweet kicks and painful head butts. Its a sweet reminder to enjoy this while I have it because I missed out on so much having Prudence early. These past few days have been filled with soul searching because part of me honestly did not know if I could handle being a mom to a second 25 weeker....and only barely a year out of the NICU at that. Micropreemies are no joke and it takes the whole family into some dark places to make it out of that again.
So now I am at home which is good. I got to take a shower and put on my lovely smelling lotion and get into my much more comfortable posturepedic bed. This struggle is going to be a different kind. I feel utterly useless as a person/mother/wife right now and kind of feel like a glorified incubator, just waiting for the time when he acts up again and decides to come or they decide that its his time and take him. I look around and see chores that need to be done and can't. Its really frustrating. And I am only on day one of my confinement.
On the plus side, my family has been wonderful about everything. Juan, my parents, the outpouring of support, has been so sweet and appreciated. Every week will be a celebration of growth and development until Jude gets here and I will just have to learn to accept my limitations (something I have never been good at).
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