Bed rest sounds like a treat (who wouldn't want to be told you had to remain in bed?) but it's actually a nightmare. My mother made me tea and sat at the end of the bed trying not to look worried. My husband bought a Play Station 3 (I believe this is the guy version of retail therapy) and moved a mini fridge into our bedroom. He could not stop moving while I sat as still as stone. The anxiety in the house was so palpable and my stress from my stay in the hospital so clear, my two year old son took one look at me and started crying "NOOOOOOOOOOO. No Mama. No Mama".
I wanted to jump up out of bed, hug him, and tell him everything was going to be fine. But I really didn't know if that was the case. I made his squirmy body snuggle with me all the while trying to keep my belly out of harms way. I tickled him and he finally laughed. To him I had snuck out of the house 4 days earlier in the middle of the night. I didn't blame him for holding a grudge.
The day came to a close and my husband and I sat close together on the bed.
"How are we going to do this for 8 weeks?" I asked.
"We will manage," he replied.
One half day of bed rest had past.
The next day, Saturday, was much of the same. We had to all get used to the new world order where I did not do anything but everyone had to do everything for me. The minutes and hours ticked by painfully. Even my mother couldn't help but state the obvious as she made yet another cup of tea.
"How are you going to do this for 8 more weeks?"
"I don't know," I sighed.
My mother left our house around 5PM. My husband headed downstairs to give our son Grayson his dinner. Sitting alone for the first time in days, I took stock of how I felt. I did not miss the hospital but there was a part of me that took comfort hearing the baby's heartbeat and knowing he was ok. The magnesium had all but worked it's way out of my system and the sluggish feeling that followed me around had faded.
The entire day was such a whirlwind of adjusting to the new routine, I barely had time to register that I felt cramps. Now that I sat quiet and alone I felt a slight tightening in my abdomen.
At 7:30 my husband came upstairs after putting Grayson to bed. I told him about the tightening. I didn't yet want to commit to calling it "contractions" or "cramps". I just felt "off". I put a pillow between my knees and rolled to my side. The tightening lessened. A few minutes later it started again.
It was becoming clear that it was time to call the doctor again. What started as an 8 week bed rest was about to turn into only a day and a half.
Next up: A Preemie Story - Part 4: Back Where it all Began
~Davina
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