Limbo

So I have neglected this. Mainly because I just want to move on. However, I am not allowed, I am stuck in this state of limbo. I want to get on with life, and spring, and everything else that comes with a three year old.  I am stuck because my doctors don't want me having this baby at 28, or now 29 weeks. I am going to tell this one last time, and hopefully it will help me move on...

Last week I started having some cramping in my stomach, and it got the point late Thursday/early Friday that I started writing down times, and they were happening every five to ten minutes.  I guzzled as much water as i could find, and things settled down. I felt run down, but promised myself to take it easy that day. I even took a nap.  After I woke up and started getting ready for the evening (I don't remember what I did) I started cramping consistently every five minutes.  They weren't painful in the slightest, just annoying. I was thinking Braxton Hicks. I called my doctor and they wanted to see me, and to be there in an hour, HA, good one! So I rushed out the door, and of course got stuck in an accident before even reaching Harrisonburg. I called the doctors office, informed them that I would not be making it, and they told me to go to labor and delivery at the hospital...

I DID NOT want to go to the hospital. I wanted to turn around and go home.  So I did the next best thing, I called a good level headed, non-panicky friend.  I had Brandon and Preston with me, so we drove to her house, if for no other reason than for her to tell me it was fine, and we could hang out for a little. Well, she played the "it wouldn't hurt to be checked" card, and Preston can stay here and play. Okay, fine, I decided to go, still feeling a little ridiculous because whatever was happen didn't hurt in the slightest, and wasn't even lasting a full minute each time.  So we get to the hospital, fill a cup, put on their silly gown, and settled in. The nurse confirmed contractions, had the doctor do the same, and then proceeded to give me a little cocktail that put me to sleep.  I wish it had tasted better... After a cat nap of who knows how long, they woke me in a panic, and wanted to check me. Being groggy, I was slightly annoyed.  I remember being annoyed at Brandon too because while napping he kept pacing around the bed.  I later found out it was because he was watching my labor speed up.  The doctor checked me, and here is where I sobered up.  I had started dialating. She immediately starts handing out instructions to ship me off to UVA where they are more prepared to handle a 27 week and 5 day baby. I woke up very quickly and starting telling everyone I saw, just do whatever you need to, make this stop.  I am NOT having this baby tonight.

They sent Brandon on his merry way to UVA, and started pumping me with whatever they could find.  They stuck me in an ambulance and off we went.  I was panicked, I don't think I said five words the whole way.  All I could think was that I didn't even give Preston a hug and kiss before we left Teresa's.  I knew he was fine, and sound asleep, but I felt terrible, his world was about to be rocked if I had this baby.  They got me in a room, and hooked me up to a bazillion more monitors, and told me to relax.  Right, on it. At some point, I fell asleep, and everything stopped. I woke up around four Saturday morning, and watched the monitor, and nothing was happening, all had stopped.  I was relieved.

Through that night, I had been told things like, get comfortable, you may be here until you have this baby, it might be tonight, it might be 80 days.  They told me that they had a great NICU, and that my baby would be fine if born right then.  They said he was breach and if things didn't settle down I was going to have a C-section. Thank God for all the drugs in my system helping to numb me.  Thinking about all of that now scares me.

I thought I was done, and so I would get to go home, well to make an already LONG story short, they locked me up until Monday. Three days.  This is the longest I have ever been away from Preston. He came to visit every day, but he didn't understand me in a hospital bed, and wanted little to do with me. I missed him like one would miss their right leg. I so wanted him to climb up in the bed and sit and cuddle with me. I held out hope for when I came home.  Even then he was standoffish and almost nervous around me, it sucked, bad. I was on lock down, and couldn't do a lot with his busy self anyway.

Brandon, thankfully, was able to stay with us all week last week, and was a huge help.  It has been the biggest adjustment for him.  Duties have shifted, and it has been hard to let go.  Things are slipping, but slip away, I don't want this baby here yet. He has more growing (and some flipping) to do. Today is our first day back to normal.  Meaning, Brandon is at work, and Preston and I are going to figure it out. Thankfully it is going to be a gorgeous day, and we have new sand in the sandbox. I am going to paint my toenails while he builds castles.  Cross your fingers that I can reach them okay.

I will remain in limbo for now, I will be given the all clear in 7 weeks.  I suspect in that time this baby will settle in, and decide to stay until I need to be induced. Which would be fine, but I hate the constant worry I carry that I might over do it, and land myself back in that nightmare. I so want to move on, and get back to normal. I want to be able to walk to the park, and run and play in the warm weather, and chase after Preston on his bike.  I guess I will have to settle for watching him from my lounge chair in the back. I am going to remind myself that it could be worse. I could be pumping and driving over to Charlottesville daily to see a premature little boy. This is better.