So, I’ve been on bed rest since last Monday. Bed rest as in: no cooking, no cleaning, no lifting, no laundry, no shopping, no walking (except for bathroom/ kitchen needs), no prolonged standing, no doing anything. The only reason it’s not labeled “strict bed rest” is because, as you all well know, I have a two year old and three idiotic dogs.
I don’t think any living being in this house grasps the concept of “bed rest”. Including myself. I understand it in theory, yes, but the practice of it is nigh impossible. Mini Gwinn doesn’t stay in one room for more than ninety seconds at a time. The dogs demand to go outside and come back inside every seven minutes. I’m 31 weeks today and every inclination to pee is an emergency (until I get there and it’s like, three drips, and done.) thanks to all that baby sitting on top of my bladder. And I don’t think the husband can maintain a consistent idea of bed rest because sometimes he’s horridly concerned with me turning on the dryer, and other times, it’s perfectly ok for me to go to Costco.
My doctor told me a couple weeks ago that I need to take this seriously, and warned that if I didn’t, I would end up on bed rest in the hospital until our little guy is born. My blood pressure has been high for weeks now, I’ve had elevated levels of protein in my pee pee, regular headaches, etc. All in all, not in great shape. So I did some research on why gestational hypertension is so bad, and then my attitude on it changed. If my blood pressure is too high, the proper amount of blood doesn’t go to the uterus, which causes our little guy to be really small at birth, or worse, his lungs won’t be totally developed. There are other scary outcomes to this medical condition, but I’m not going to type them out for now. I have to accept this bed rest business for what it is to protect our little Graham cracker.
Pretty early on, my one outlet for “me”, working out, was taken because of symphysis pubis dysfunction pain. I tried to stay positive, telling myself, “Well, at least I still have Target.” And now I can’t do that, either. I’m not really supposed to leave the house unless it’s for a doctor’s appointment. And it’s disheartening. My big event for the day is changing into fresh pajamas after a shower (this is in part because I don’t have much that fits now aside from pajamas, and, really, why would I get fully dressed to compete in the lounge olympics?). I miss taking mini Gwinn to the indoor playground and bounce houses, or the park, I miss seeing my girlfriends on play dates, and I miss perusing the aisles of the beloved red and white. We took a family trip to Target this week and I experienced my first ride on a rascal (the motorized ride-on carts with exceptionally wide seats), much to CLP and mini Gwinn’s amusement. I was pretty embarrassed, but hey, we needed groceries, and I’m not supposed to
walk waddle anywhere.
The good news is that this week has had a lot of distractions for me. For instance, my lovely friends have agreed to have play dates at our house to keep MG entertained (even though they all have way better set ups and play spaces) and to give me company. The stress of a messy house (I don’t sit well with mess around me) is alleviated because we now have a fantastic house keeper. Mini Gwinn started sleeping in his new big boy bed, aka a twin bed, and transitioned seamlessly. He didn’t care at all that we took down his crib, and he hasn’t figured out that he can climb out of this bed yet, so he’s still stationary (for now). He’s also started counting to ten… well, counting to nine. He will say one through nine with us, but today, when we got to ten, he decided to say “that one” instead. But he was really proud of himself, so there was no point in correcting him. It was hilarious.
Our littlest guy will be here in six weeks, give or take a couple days. And even though his nursery is totally not decorated and is still currently acting as a storage room, I’m so ready for him to be here. The first time around seemed so daunting- what will labor be like, will I recover, how am I going to keep a tiny infant alive once I come home from the hospital, will I ever lose the weight, etc. This time around is totally different. It ain’t my first rodeo, as they say. I have no fear of delivery (bring it!), the plan is to take the old PS3, Star Wars and a video game to the hospital, and managing a newborn (minus the sleep deprivation) seems WAY easier than a toddler. I won’t lie, I’m pretty concerned about losing the 50+ lbs. I’ve gained this pregnancy, but I gained more than that with MG and it was off within 5 months, so I know it can happen, it’s more a matter of when.
Any way. Come on, April.