I promise to try to do better with the updates. Shannon and I really appreciate all the support from everyone. It’s been an unbelievably stressful few weeks.
So, I’m still pregnant. No contractions, no leaking, no signs of an infection. That’s all good. I got my IV out today, which is a huge help since I can now bend my left arm. I do still have a pulse-ox monitor on my left hand so the typing is still a little tricky for me. My staples have been removed, YAY. However, I have another 2 1/2 weeks to go before the retention bands from the hernia repair can be removed and they are really causing me discomfort.
Olivia Moonpie is a wiggly, kicky, and as far as we can tell, healthy in utero baby. On Friday, we’re going to try to check my cervix and see if we can get a look at her with an abdominal sonogram.
The plan is for me to stay here all week. On Friday, we’ll re-evaluate and take the sono findings into account and see if home bedrest is an option.
I’m trying to stay positive. It’s hard to do at this point. I first went into the hospital on April 15. I got two days at home, then went right back to the hospital for fourteen more days. I got two more days at home, and now I’m on day four of my third hospital stay. It’s a bit old. I miss the cats. I miss being able to go into my kitchen and get a glass of water instead of having to page someone when the pitcher is empty. I miss wearing clothes. I could probably count the number of hugs I’ve given Shannon in the past month on one hand because I’ve rarely been on my feet. I’m tired of having to keep track of how much I pee. It’s frustrating and it has to be done and I’m grateful for everything that has been done to ensure my health and safety and that of my baby girl, but it’s hard not to start to feel… overwhelmed. Plus, there’s this ennui that sets in in the hospital. I find it hard to work up the energy to open the laptop, or crack open a book. I have a baby blanket to work on that I haven’t touched.
There’s one more bit of anxiety at work. Two years and a few months ago, I was in this hospital, on this floor, on this hall. I was right at 24 weeks pregnant and counting every day that I stayed pregnant. I recognize nurses, patient care techs, even the woman who brings the food trays. Shannon has walked past the room where he waited for me to come out of surgery the night the twins were delivered. Yesterday marked the start of my 24th week. The timing is not lost on any of us. Third trimester does not seem to be my “thing.” The location and the timing is sometimes more than I can deal with. I sleep a lot.
But, what is important is that we are both still here and if all you had to go on was Olivia Moonpie’s heartrate and activity level you’d never know anything was wrong. I can deal with any amount of crappy food, uncomfortable beds, loss of muscle tone (which happens stupidly fast) and middle of the night blood pressure tests as long as she keeps kicking so hard the blankets move. She’s the prize at the end of this race and I fully intend for it to be a marathon.
A lot of people have asked if there is anything I need or want or if they can help out in some way. Honestly, I’m good. A little stir crazy, but we are fortunate and we are pretty well set. However, I can’t help but throw this out there. It would be amazingly wonderful if everyone in a position to do so would go and donate blood. I’m not looking to start a formal blood drive or anything like that. I’m two floors above the NICU where my twins received their care and where Miss Olivia will go, should we not convince her to stay put for a while longer. That NICU goes through a lot of blood. There are a bunch of other 24 week mothers on this floor, all of whom HAVE ruptured membranes (I’m the only one with intact membranes) and are just hoping and praying to give their babies a few more days before they have to go to that NICU. So, if you REALLY want to do something for me, something that really matters, please go donate blood. It won’t necessarily go to a NICU, but it will ensure that there is blood for that purpose. And, if you let me know you did so, I’ll happily post a list of all who donate!
In a pursuit of positive thought, I’m going to keep a cumulative list of some things that remind me of the way out of The Pit.
1. The way it feels when Olivia Moonpie kicks at Shannon’s hands on my belly or at the fetal heart monitor. She has good aim.